Underneath
by RanOutOfBatteries
Summary: You fall down. (There are monsters here, monsters whose souls you found as beautiful as the ones aboveground. They open up to you, and you find yourself regaining the family you've never lost.)
1. Chapter 1

I'm back and writing this over again. Have fun.

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Chapter 1

 _The dead never sleep. You are careful not to wake up._

The broken hinges of the gate swung, rusted and creaking loud whenever the wind blew through and against the black spikes. The skies were pitch black but faded evenly into grey just around where the moon stood high, lighting up the path and the most twisted of tree roots.

You stumbled up the mountain trail, hiccuping every couple of seconds as you kicked up dirt and scrambled for a foothold when you became too unsteady on your feet. In your right hand was a dimly colored bottle, reflecting light from the moon when it tilted just the right way. Warily your eyes trailed upwards, eyes narrowing in a feverish manner. It was almost completely devoid of dark clouds overhead, so there would be no thunderstorms in the distance for a while.

Leaves crunched underneath as animals peered in, yellow eyes obfuscated by the shifting trees and shrubs prickling with sharp branches. Overhead an owl passed, dark silhouette heavy and ominous from its lone presence. Ferns and other wildlife grew in large clumps, poking their heads into the pathways people used to reach the mountain.

The feeling of being out in the open without any form of cover made you feel bare, uncomfortable, and inwardly you prayed for a rolling cloud to pass overhead so that it could blot out any part of the forest you were trekking in.

 _Breathe in, breathe out._

For a brief change of pace, you had decided to take a hike out near Mt. Ebott. The winding dirt pathways all led to the same place, and walking alone for a midnight stroll seemed like a very good idea at the time. In fact, it still was a great idea: the warm winds rose up, not in a sweltering fashion but in a feeling of comfort, much like the shift from temperature during the interlude between summer and fall.

"It's quiet out."

It was true: normally the crickets would be humming, but tonight there was no sound except for the warm whistling of winds. You could vaguely make out the silhouette of a deer that had bolted from the sound of your scuffling, but other than that there were no other animals nearby, either. Maybe you've been a bit too loud in your stomping.

The empty feeling in the bottom of the glass reminded you that, yet again, the bottle was still empty when you lifted it up to take on another mouthful of alcohol. The lack of liquor made for a sobering experience by itself, and already the effects were making your limbs shake quite heavily.

You clutched your left side with a sudden shuddering cough, feeling along the skin for the bandages. You could've dodged it, but it would've been easier to catch him if you didn't. One mistake out of a few. You wouldn't miss the stitches for sure, but you did feel the slightest pang of regret at the traumatized expression the kid had when he came back to his senses. Nobody needed to see that much blood in their lives.

The alcohol did ease off some of the pain, but you despised drinking and this was a one-time thing when you kept waking up howling due to the excruciating pain in your side. All your remaining pills had been used up for the remaining kids.

Unfortunately, your grip on the bottle was not as tight as it should've been, and with your observation it fell out of your hands and made its way into a nearby bush. You nodded after it briefly, frowning. Littering was bad. You should go pick that up.

The bottle was wedged in between a branch and a large rock face that dipped below eyesight, blocked by various ferns and overgrown plant growth in the way. You peered over the edge, shifting so that you could sling a leg over accordingly and reach it, but you halted just as fast. Eyes widening, you stepped back a bit, skidding back due to your lack of control over small motor skills. You should be careful of falling in by accident - or, in this case, a bout of drunken clumsiness.

The feeling of fear returned, dull and thumping in your brain as it tumbled about. The notice brings you back even further from making use on your sudden urges, like jumping off a cliff or into a ravine.

You freeze in place. The rock you'd nearly placed your foot onto had come loose with your footsteps, disappearing into the darkness below.

 _There was a giant hole in the ground._

Markings scuffed along the edges haphazardly along the dirt, almost like rune markings. Symbols, some that were almost white in color when reflecting the moon's light, were written in a language you did not understand and had no chance of decoding properly. For some reason, the sense of dread crept up your spine at the very thought of getting close enough to read them.

They glowed under the moonlight, cut in marble white and eaten away through cracks and age. The color had long faded and smudged due to the moss creeping up and the dirt smudging the surface, but otherwise there were some parts that still appeared brand new. You looked at the older ones first, eyesight blurry and shifting.

The runes were broken in places, faded in others due to no one replacing the letters and chipping them back into place. There were symbols that looked remarkably intricate and far more complicated than you could manage, written in perfect script with every line appearing to be accurate.

There was an unnatural cut to the angle in which the hole was dug, almost as if it had been by a large claw with only the pieces left behind remaining. The symbol right in front of you, specifically, looked familiar. Three triangles, upside down, and the design of what looked like an angel with wings planted directly in the center. You weren't sure where exactly you had seen it before, but it was interesting enough that you wanted to draw it on a notepad.

Warily, you reached for the bottle and jerked back before anything snapped at you. There was static, whether from too much blood rushing in your veins or from imagination.

Nothing.

You hastily shoved the bottle deep into your hoodie pocket before picking up a decently-sized rock and chucking it. You waited for the sound of a telltale thump within the depths of the empty space, but there was no noise to be heard. Brow furrowing, you dimly reached for another one before you heard it. It had reached the bottom with a faint _clink._

You probably wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't been listening for it at all.

Foreboding crept up alongside your spine, startling and adrenaline-inducing. The owl was long gone by now. There was a quiet ringing in your ears that would not leave, and you trusted your instincts entirely: staying any longer felt like a death wish. You needed to leave. _Trespassing._

You scrambled away from the hole, shuddering harshly with a scowl. You felt a sense of ominous foreboding creep over you and promptly slapped the back of your neck to get rid of the feeling. Bringing yourself back to your knees, then your feet, you slowly began to head back to the trail. The night air was getting to you, you thought, rubbing your hands over your arms as you looked up at the sky again. It was time to go home.

Your clothes tugged at your neck. At first, the feeling was light, like the cloth had only snagged on a thorn or some short object with little to no resistance. You step forward and are tugged back again, the feeling becoming more and more constricting.

You yelped as you were held back by the back of your hoodie. The fabric was constricting and you quickly backpedaled so that you wouldn't choke yourself to death. You relaxed a bit with the expectation that it had been caught on a low-hanging branch or bramble, only for you to stiffen with horrified surprise when it pulled you harder.

You instantly turn around to face the creature.

What was supposed to be a human was instead just a dark figure, one hand outstretched and keeping ahold of your clothing without speaking or moving any further. (You hadn't even heard his footsteps approaching, where did he come from?) You squinted your eyes, unable to see very clearly as a cloud had just passed over the moon mere seconds before, and you waited until the piteous light was visible again for a ray to dance across his face. You rushed toward it.

"Who the hell..." Your voice gets caught in your throat. That wasn't a human. That definitely was _not_ even alive.

There was a man - a skeleton - staring back. His clothes and his face appeared to be melting off of him, sloughing in small drips like black candle wax before re-merging back into him. Long white phalanges have taken hold on your hoodie, and as you tense he stares back with that same, horrifying grin, one scar across his left eye and another just reaching past his chin. There were strange glowing lights embedded deep into his sockets, and you were unsure what exactly they were coming from.

Your eyes darted down. His hand was composed of more bones, and instead of melting you saw small lines of code, flickering in and out as if being eaten away like a virus. You wanted to shake your head and try to clear your eyesight, wondering if this was a hallucination, but panic was starting to set in and you only had one thing on your mind now.

You hit him square in the face.

He phases through your hand, his image disappearing, and you leap back to regain ground and any semblance of intimidation, turning so that your injured side was away from him. However, with your attention entirely trained on the strange being before you, your feet never catch ground. Your face shifts as the sky falls behind you, and you realize that you had stepped past solid earth and-

 _Fucking_ hell.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...!"

The ground had crumbled beneath your feet, and so you flung a hand out to grab hold of the clothes on the melting skeleton. You were not going down alone, and you prayed to the lord that this skeleton was smart enough to pull back enough that you could be carried out as well. The grinning creature's face morphed into briefly concealed shock. He flickered - wait, what - but instead of teleporting out, his eyes widen as he tipped along with you instead, down into the abyss.

Winds flying, you fly backward as your vision narrows until the sky becomes a pinprick above your head. You can only grunt with grim disapproval as you hurtled down below.

 _Man, you wanted to go and see your parents one more time._

You maintained a tight grip on the skeleton's clothes, pulling him closer to look in his direction and making sure that he stayed directly and in your sights. Your attacks still phase through him, unable to find contact. He still seemed a bit struck, most likely by his inability to do his weird illusion trick. The taunting aggress when you attempted to fight him didn't help matters, either, but...

The thought returned to you, more solid than before. You vaguely remember stepping backward while the hole had been in _front_ of you, and the skeleton had been in between. But when you did begin to step back and were sure that your feet would meet ground, you fell suddenly and your perspective had shifted.

"Who are you?" You ask it. Your grip tightens on its cloak, and realization dawns as the melting man now looks terrified. "Who the fucking hell are you?"

Before you could open your mouth, the surroundings shifted again, and you felt the sting of irritation as you felt your body begin to stretch.

"What-"

The skeleton raised a hand, and you tensed up, ready to dodge any attack he might have thrown at you. However, he simply placed it over yours, the hole in the middle of his palm pressing strangely against the back, and tried to pull it off. You shook your head, face turning in annoyance as he tried to get you to let go. You were not willing to die because of this skeleton. You heard the cavern open up below you and pulled him closer instead, curling around him.

You are suspended in midair. Whether your voice drains of life is because of resignation or fear, you can no longer tell.

The ground was nearing. You don't feel it.

There was only black for a long, long moment. You supposed that you had fallen unconscious at some point, and maybe shock had gotten hold (the fall should've been fatal), because when you fell unconscious you were unsure whether you were hallucinating or you were actually in an entirely different place of scenery.

 _There were sigils in the marble, markings in the stone. Abovehead there were the sounds of birds chirping, light and carefree. The sound of a child's laughter filled the area where you were sleeping._

 _A tree, blooming into a symphony of colors. Red, mostly, but when the season demanded it the leaves bloomed into flowers and dissipated, leaving behind the fruits of its labor as the continent tremored with joy, feasted in relief. The monsters stayed alive._

 _There was fire. A sobbing resident, mourning over a small grey tombstone. A golden flower, wilting under the rain._

 _And then you were alone._

You drifted in and out for a very strenuous period of time, mental state thoroughly and completely disjointed. There was the sound of crackling, similar to the sound of a large campfire, and there was a brief spark that settled at the center of your forehead. There was a flash of - something - along the back of your lids, and you briefly felt discomfited when it grew too bright to ignore, but then that settled down as well.

When you finally jolted awake, you felt a sharp pang of relief. The thrumming in your head was gone before your fingers curled, your legs twitched, and you regained feeling in the rest of your body. Your eyes opened and moved about once you realized you were lying in a bed of golden flowers _(the ones in your memories.)_

"What in the..."

You were still alive. That was a surprise to you.

Faintly you could see the outline of your hand, encased in the light streaming from the cracks above, and your eyes trailed upward as you frowned slightly. Specks of dust particles floated in an eerily serene manner, light spots of shadow forming where it blocked the sunlight from coming down. _It was dark when you went up the mountain. You had passed out for more than seven hours. A day? No, probably not._

You glanced upward, still lightheaded and struggling to focus on the sky. If you had fallen as far as you thought you had, then how could the light still reach down to the bottom of the hole? The walls were dark and oppressive, lacking any form or structure and curving in like an upturned bowl ready to fall in upon itself, and you quickly got to your feet. You paused accordingly. Nothing was broken.

 _Strange, but nice. You'll leave that issue for later._

You trailed after the path, glancing behind to give the flowers one last stare. Nothing moved. You could feel eyes somewhere, assessing you just as you had noticed them, and carefully you shoved your hands into your pockets. You traveled up past the flowers and into the ruins.

The walls were dark, almost mahogany in color, but overall pleasing to look at compared to the entryway of the place you had fallen through. You peered closer, noticing that there were similar runes etched into the sides. These were lighter markings, very old and far simpler than the ones overhead. A circle with wings. A language you did not understand. It was difficult to divert your gaze and move past it, but eventually you did manage to continue on and down the hall.

Now that you were coherent, your ire towards the melting skeleton increased. He'd most likely gained a lot of ground. You had some questions for that guy.

There were patches of light up ahead that you noticed as you continued on. It made you smile a bit as you stepped through them eagerly, stepping from stone to stone. There was the faint sound of birdsong, but it seemed implausible and was more likely a trick of the mind. You blink once you notice what was off, hand coming up to rest against your side. The pain in your hip was gone, too.

The draft in the air was still coming from the direction of the opening, and its breeze lifted some of the leaves that had fallen across the patch of soil and shrunken grass until it all settled into place. The air felt mustier here, blocked off and hidden away far below, and you wondered who lived here. Or, at least, used to live here.

A yellow flower petal grabs your attention from the outer peripheral of your vision and your head instantly turns, stance changing. A lone flower had sprouted out of the soil there, harmless and healthy-looking. You take a glance at your surroundings again before it suddenly moves.

You stand, awestruck, as the ground around the plant began shaking as if it were straining to release its roots. Its petals unfurl with a swift (completely unnatural) movement, and when its head turns you can see two bright, beady eyes land on you.

"Howd-"

You flung your bottle at the thing and sprinted. You could hear the smash of glass shattering and loud shrieking, but you left no time to waste. Vaulting over a pillar, you ducked under for cover and picked up the closest thing to a weapon, which just happened to be a decently-sized rock.

"H-hey, hey, calm down, there," the voice said, but it seemed farther away this time. Good. "You can trust me. Can you, uh, come out?"

You tilt your head. The flower might be unaware of where exactly your location was due to the threat of the glass, and it may be biding its time. Ignoring for the moment how strange it was (a flower, you're fighting a fucking flower), you fling the rock somewhere to your right, behind a similar-looking pillar that would also have sufficed as a hiding place. The stone makes a loud _clunk_ against the ground.

Immediately, five different thorny vines burst out of the wall and pierce themselves into the empty space where the rock had landed.

 _Okay, definitely an enemy._

There is a brief period of time as the flower waits, but nothing else responds. The vines slowly retract, and you watch carefully as you listen to the flower's angry muttering. Your eyes close and you continue to count down from twenty before chucking another piece of rubble you've found. It makes a smaller _thunk_ against solid earth, but this time no thorns come.

You stand fully and creep away, making sure to stick to the shadows.

This all felt like a fever dream. In fact, you were counting on it being a fever dream. The lack of pain made sense as well. You reached down and pinched the back of your left hand, frowning when you felt the brief spark of discomfort. Well, not entirely.

Trust never came so easily. The flower's last question made you curl your lip in disgust, feeling for any scrapes on your palms from scrabbling for something to throw. Asking for blind faith from a stranger, who dared to actually try that? You've managed to read the movements that gave false impressions well: it wasn't hard, after watching people's interactions for so long. That flower had been faker in both expression and voice than anything you'd seen before.

(That often meant they had something to hide.)

You kept bandages wrapped around your left leg for emergencies. You unwrapped them with ease, pulling tight as you wound them quickly around your knuckles and formed a fist. It gave a bit. Satisfactory, whenever you felt the need for hand-to-hand. Unfortunately, these creatures seemed to have some sort of long-range fighting.

You hear the swift patter of feet against tile, and you duck behind an upright pillar. A figure emerges from the corridor, horns tipped back and sleeves drawn to cover clawed pads. Your heart catches in your throat.

It's a goat monster.

The flower and the skeleton are no comparison to the sheer height the woman has. Although all senses point to her being intimidating, you are tugged to your feet as she glances around carefully.

The symbol on her dress was the same as the one aboveground, something you decided to keep in mind. She gave off a kindly, maternal aura that the flower creature could not hope to replicate through body language alone: her shoulders were set forward a bit, as if careful not to be overbearing and watchful of smaller humans.

Children, perhaps.

You were no longer a child.

Once the creature had taken note of her surroundings and eyed the new cracks in the wall warily (you noticed the older ones as well: at least you knew where they came from now) she left just as quickly, robes swishing behind her. You maneuver around the pillar and continue on your way, one hand to the wall as you continue along the path.

The monsters you encountered were passive, mostly: you fled before you could spend too much time with any of them. The puzzles and traps were not too troublesome, but setting off the spikes made too loud a noise for comfort, so instead, you held onto the side as you dropped below or jumped over them using momentum.

Twice, you had seen yellow flicker in the corner of your eye, but when you turned sharply it was gone. The flower was definitely still tracking you, due to the lack of golden flowers further down the ruins as the light begins to fade. You keep yourself tense.

The brief fluttering of translucent cloth beckons you. You squint as you tread closer, unsure whether or not it was just a stray piece of fabric. A ghost lay in your path, eyes shut and snoring. Well, more like saying the letter "z" repeatedly without a pause in breath.

"Hi" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and the ghost jerks a bit as his head turns to you. Inwardly you can feel yourself relax. Seeing so many monsters around was nerve-wracking, to say the least, but this one seemed docile right off the bat: the closed eyes, relaxed expression, and the lack of nervousness of interaction. It's an innocent position, and you are briefly reminded of the boy whose wounds you'd tended to.

You lean back a bit so you aren't peering down right over him. "Are you okay?"

"Oh..." The ghost seemed rather surprised by the question, nodding forward as continued to lay on the floor. "N-no. But thanks anyway..."

You sit down beside him, leaves shaking a bit as you do so. "What's wrong, dude?"

The ghost is surprised as you sit down, but as the question registers he sighs. You've heard that tone before. You laugh a bit, which seems to cheer him up. "Tough day, huh? That's cool. We all have bad days."

"I..." He looks up at you this time. "Thank you...I've never had a conversation last this long before..."

You laugh louder this time, grinning widely. The ghost seems to smile a little.

"Haha! Well, I can fill up a whole conversation by myself, you know. Don't worry about talking too much with me, because that's all I'll be doing."

The thought comes through unbidden - you've had a kid like this before, a child you'd taken in that had spoken little but spoke through hands, and the caretakers had been worried that no one would adopt a child with such a shy disposition. You'd filled up the spaces by talking, and although she didn't respond much she seemed to enjoy the company. You'd taken to her with the ease of an older sibling, and she'd grown attached faster than anyone had expected. You'd appreciated her sentiment.

"You're doing great, kid." You gaze off into the distance a bit distractedly, unaware of the way he startles a bit as he starts and listens to your words, intense. "And you're gonna do great in the future, too. Don't sweat it too much, a'ight?"

"You're..." You pause, looking down at him again. He's shuffled up a bit so his back is to the wall, but he's levitating slightly off the ground. You have no clue whether or not he's able to phase through the wall if he's not careful enough. "You're a human, but you're so nice... Thank you..."

"It's fine, dude." You tip your head forward slightly. "I'll see you around."

"I'm Napstablook," he blurts out before you get up again. He floats a bit higher now, and his expression seems a bit lighter as well. "Oh no...don't feel pressured to tell me your name, though..."

"Call me Z," you say, your smile turning amused. Napstablook "eeps" and begins to fade away. (You wonder whether or not his physical appearance is connected to any tangible object or whether it was related to magic. Light particles didn't need to exist, apparently.) "Bye-bye!"

"See...you..."

The last "Z" was a quiet murmur, fond in its inflection, and you chuckle under your breath as you pass through the narrow entryway.

And all the while, the flower watches.

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ok wow im writing undertale in 2018 what is this

goodbye


	2. Chapter 2

hm

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Chapter 2

You didn't trust in fairytales.

The orphanage's library held a meager collection of books, but within the shelves and the dog-eared pages there were a couple of happy endings that the children wanted to be read every night. The caretakers gave up on confiscating the bedtime hours, since you did manage to get them all to fall asleep before ten. And you? You picked up a new one and kept reading, because you liked to see how stories ended.

You've heard folklore mainly from word of mouth, told by the elderly that came by to interact with the younger orphans. (They were kinder, more open than the people that came to adopt them. That in itself told many things.) The grandmother was a fantastic storyteller, each of her claims being vivid and more outlandish than the last, but you ate it up anyway: the wishing well, the mushroom rings that gave way to the fairies, the lights that led many astray. The one you noticed most was the one about Mt. Ebott: the hole in the ground. Once upon a time, six souls had fallen to their graves. The seventh would save them all.

You enjoyed the company, and so did the children. They've always cared a bit more about fairytales than you, though, so you couldn't complain.

There was a foundation to your rules and regulations when dealing with adults: don't keep eye contact for too long, stand as straight as you could, keep your expression neutral. To this house of wild children, with dreams stretching as wide as the skies above them, you played the role of the housekeeper. The matrons played the adults who came, but you had confided in these kids like the eldest maintained secrecy. Your orders were unquestioned.

You've overheard the financial instability of the orphanage. The caretakers had governmental backing, but there was just barely enough to manage, and you've heard that they might send some of the children out to the other orphanage hours away from this one. Less mouths to feed. You'd prayed that if stories like the ones you'd heard were true, then the days would be kinder.

"What was your home like?" You remember asking the old woman once, curiosity overtaking you. In her experience, she had mentioned stories of the place she had lived in throughout her life, but she had yet to tell the name of the actual place.

"I lived in the grasslands, once, but I'm assuming that's not what you were asking for." She had laughed, loud and clear and strong despite being so wrinkled with age. Her shriveled hand reached out and wrapped lightly around in yours, calm and unyielding. "Home is whatever you make it to be, my dear. If you feel as if where you are right now is home, then it is. It can up and move with you wherever you want to go."

You had been taken by those words: the children's raucous laughter when play-fighting around the corridors, the food pranks despite all circumstances telling them not to, the way they huddled up close during the winter nights and slept away around you like a blanket: you loved them, and they mattered to you more than anything. Your home lived here, and everything fell into place.

(You knew that one day, that wouldn't be the case: you were nearing the limit age, and you'd avoided getting picked out like a fish in water. The caretakers knew you wanted to stay and had kept you since the children obeyed under your will - you couldn't very well tell them to never get you to leave, you did not want to rely on their ever-present kindness, but when you looked back and saw the people you've lived with for so long - taller, older, wearied and with more calluses by the sheer force of will alone and straggling behind you almost stopped with your mind whispering leave, leave, they are suffering and you must go, and then you blink and they have resumed their tasks with ease.)

Rage was a terrifying thing, and you hoped to God that whatever you did you would never resort to anger, that you wouldn't leave them behind because fighting and mending were the two things you knew best and squandering that meant death. These beaten souls shivered at night, sleepwalked to the kitchen from hunger, minds scarred beyond your reach because they'd already become like this before you'd ever arrived to meet them.

"I'm sorry," one boy had sobbed in your shirt as you'd huddled together underneath the open cabinets, back pressed to the refrigerator door. His hands were clenched in your shirt. You'd found him holding a kitchen knife, wielding it clumsily and in danger of cutting himself in the process. (We're all a little messed up sometimes, you tell him. This has happened before, many times over.) "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," you'd whispered back, rocking him back and forth. Mindlessly humming calmed the both of you, and for a moment you could briefly ignore the red stain that was blooming well past your shirt and into the monochrome tile that patterned the floor. "Don't worry about it, it's fine. You're alright."

And although you stood there now, surrounded by crumbling walls and runes covered by spiderwebs, your heart reminded you to keep going, they were waiting for you aboveground, don't stop, and you didn't because who were you to make them worry? You were the leader. You had things under control because staying controlled was part of the job description. You avoid, you survive, you keep moving.

You didn't trust in fairytales. After all, in this world, what more were they than just empty promises?

You'd briefly rested in an empty room after the encounter with the ghost, where a wooden sign read "Spider Bake Sale." You squinted down at the pricing, then checked the coins you'd found in your pocket. 21 g. You stood in front of the spiderweb and dropped the coins onto it, eyeing the small spiders that fall from above as they retrieved a couple of spider donuts for you. They placed the treats in your empty hand, waving various legs goodbye as they slowly climbed the threads back up. After contemplating the donut, you chomped down.

It filled you with warmth.

There was a light that shone faintly, you noted, watching it move in an entrancing pattern. How sunlight managed to reach this deep into the ruins, you would never know. Spots of light rose up and danced across the leather of your boot before you could fully comprehend it, mellowing the color into pale yellows and blurred circles of molten gold. You placed the other donuts into your pocket and continued on, brushing off the excess crumbs from your mouth with a finger.

You greeted the frog monster on your way down the hall. It didn't attack you immediately, which was both a surprise and a relief: you'd wondered why they were so keen on fighting as soon as they'd spotted you. They introduced themselves as Froggit, and you had bowed your head as you passed by which seemed to please them immensely. Since then, none of the creatures had chosen to attack you.

The paths changed yet again, and you spotted a tree bare of any of the scarlet foliage you'd seen earlier. Underneath one of the low-hanging branches lay innocently a small toy knife, hard and plastic but brittle to the touch.

You picked it up, examined it, and put it back down. The leaves rustled, and you quickly turned to face your possible assailant before they blindsided you.

The flower had returned.

"So," the flower - it, he - spoke, petals shivering. "You haven't met Toriel yet. You haven't fought anyone, either."

"No," you replied. You had relaxed just as quickly. His expression was set harshly in a scowl, but you found comfort in that. His posture seemed more veritable to analyze, more authentic. "I haven't."

"Stupid," he sneered, vines sprouting from the ground. White bullet seeds materialized from thin air, encircling you in a threatening manner. He glanced to your feet, and your eyes followed. He was looking at the toy knife. "You got a weapon, don't you? Pick it up."

"What do you want me to do with it? Stab you?" You laughed, and then quickly you ducked just as a bullet shot in your direction.

The bark of the trunk bit against your clothing as you moved behind it, hauling yourself up as the vines attempted to close in but failed to locate your position. The flower relocated just as you reached the top, finding you slinging one leg over while lounging in a carefree manner against a dry branch. "Alright, then."

"At least it's something," he snapped back. Thorny vines whipped about in the air, long-ranged weapons that were rather unfair in this current predicament. "Use it. Or die."

You ducked and went for the knife. It was made of hard plastic, easy to handle and very light. You tapped it once against your palm. It was hollow.

"Hm. Not very sharp," you mused, turning back to face your opponent. "Now, then, what was that thing you said about-"

The flower's face had changed. It was abrupt and startling, its eyes completely trained on the weapon in your hands, familiarity and fear manifesting in its gaze. You realized belatedly that the vines had stuttered in midair, frozen in place.

Were they... trembling?

 _Oh_ , you thought. It was scared. It was scared of the knife.

The plastic part didn't bend as much when you tested it against your palm, and it was a crude imitation. You'd handled worse. The vindication of returning the favor comes in full force, and slowly the pointy end turns to the flower as it ducks backward even further, petals moving.

You stepped towards the flower and it shifted, vines moving to protect itself. "W-wait-" it said in terror, curling back. "I've had another thought about this. How about we just stick to things like-"

-and then you hurled the knife with all of your might.

The flower shrieked and ducked back into the leaves. Silence ensued when the knife did not hit anything, not even the ground, and when it noticed that nothing had happened it slowly drew back up, seeing the knife still there in your hands.

"Wh-"

And then you promptly threw the toy weapon off the ledge you both were standing on.

Together, the both of you watched it sail off and into the distant town below, background light against the darkening silhouette of the blade you'd casted away.

The flower stared.

"What," the animated plant repeated. The vines had stopped moving entirely. "What was _that_."

 _"Oops_ ," you said, monotone. "I missed."

Never mind the fact that you had thrown it in the entirely opposite direction of where the flower had been sitting, but you had faked the throw the first time. The vines were too thick, and one single pellet could have altered the course of the blade. You didn't question the trauma behind its movements. You already knew it was there.

"Okay, weed." You crouch so your face is leaning over it, lip curling into an imposing grin. "Spill."

"My name is Flowey," he snaps. "I'm not a weed. I'm Flowey the flower."

"No way in _hell_ that's your goddamn name," you reply, and this time the vines do halt just before they reach your leg. "Who the heck names themselves Flowey the flower? Come on, dude."

"That _is_ my name," he says, irritated, and you knock against the vine with your foot. Flowey jerks back. "Hey!"

"I'm Z," you say to him. "Z the human."

"'No way in hell you have a letter for a name,'" Flowey snarks back. You choke on a coughing fit.

"Holy shit, you got me," you say sullenly, throwing one hand over your eyes dramatically as you lean further back against the trunk. From the corner of your vision you can see Flowey roll his eyes. "I'm actually a pink platypus monster in disguise. And my name is...Eugenia."

The vine catches you by the ankle, and you are hanging off the edge of the branch. Flowey gives an experimental tug, but he doesn't pull you off entirely. "...How did you know?" He asks, quieter.

"What?"

"The first time. When I was going to attack you."

"It's all over your face - er, I mean, petals," you said, and Flowey scowled in turn. "Your voice didn't sound right. It was overly nice, trying a little too much to be entirely sincere. You have to mean it if you're trying to trick someone. Kids aren't dumb."

"I _was_ a kid," the flower muttered.

"Flowers can have kids? Oh, wait-"

The flower burst out in spluttering laughter before stopping, face twisting into something you don't recognize (something you do recognize, you've seen it in mirrors when you turn to look.) "I'm not a _child_ anymore."

You look closely at it. Flowey shrinks slightly under your gaze, his own face averting so that his petals blocked the way of your vision.

"My name is Java." You say it properly this time, and Flowey looks startled. "What's yours?"

"...It's Asriel," he murmurs, petals drooping and face lowered. The leaves seem to swallow him whole. He sounds so tired. "My name is Asriel Dreemurr."

And slowly, little by little, you two share conversation with each other. Asriel mentions a few things that you take note to remember: the falling humans, Chara's death, his descent into terrorizing the next human that falls down because he wants to be mad at mankind, the ones who'd taken his sibling away. You question him about the history between monsters and humans, and so he starts from the very beginning. He seemed entirely willing to give this lesson, one that you think helped him in the end as much as it helped you.

"The humans... we've taken six of them. Their bodies are hidden away in a place where only Asgore goes, and the last one is awaiting its owner." The monster you now know as Asriel withdraws, leaves covering where he became connected to the ground. "And then we'll be free. Nothing will stop us."

"Except the humans."

"Except the humans," Asriel agreed. "They're still scared of us now. I know it. The last impression I gave them could not have been forgotten, and there will always be descendents who will remember the words of the human wizards."

There are still niggling reminders burrowed in the back of your mind, but you ignore it. You stand up sharply once he finishes, grab a vine, and pull.

"H-hey!" His voice didn't sound pained, so you assumed that this was alright. You tug until he complies, roots pulling from the ground as he wraps around your arm. "Where are we going?"

You smile at the 'we'. "We're going to Toriel's, of course."

Flowey - Asriel - shakes his head vigorously. "No. She can't know. She's - she thinks I'm-"

"But you're not," you reply, cutting him off. Whether he would have said he were dead, or that he was a demon, you didn't care. He placed his face upon your hoodie, covering his expression from your glance.

"Thank you," he whispers, and his throat catches. "I - thank you."

The goat woman - Toriel - greets you at the door when you knock. She takes in your dirtied form. "Oh," she says, paw coming up to cover her mouth. "Oh," she says again, eyes resting on the flower currently riding on your hoodie arm.

You press his petals close to your chest and hum. She invites you in, cautiously. You bow your head as the flower hides beneath your clothing.

Toriel excuses herself and goes to the kitchen to prepare for you as guests. Eventually the shaking stops: the vines settle and wrap around you slowly, carefully, like the hands of an unsure child who wants something but doesn't know how to say it. You murmur quiet whispers into the air, and the room becomes filled with sound: the crackling of the hearth, Toriel's cooking while in the kitchen, the sound of liquid tapping gently against a ceramic mug.

"Do you think...people can change?" Asriel asks you in the silence of the room, when he's calmed down completely.

"Of course," you say, hand patting lightly over his head. "That's not my choice to make, though. You've got to make it for yourself."

He starts to unravel, hesitates, then pulls tight. "Can I go talk to her alone?" He chokes, petals fluttering. You get up and take a walk outside.

Once upon a time, there were six children. That was how the story went. You probably weren't the seventh, considering you weren't a kid anymore, but that was okay, because you knew exactly how one lonely old woman who lived in the ruins felt, how one grieving child in the midst of their suffering felt, and you would hold onto that feeling until the bitter end.

You were at the tree with the toy knife again. You picked it up and nudged it gently back into place so that it rested above the leaves again, brushing aside any soil that had fallen over it in your brief strife. You noticed the carving in the trunk of the tree.

 _CH + AS. Chara and Asriel._

You chuckle.

You made the return trip before the gnawing in your stomach reached astronomical levels - you ate another donut, but you were still rather hungry. Toriel ushered you back in, much to your chagrin. You were starting to feel like a kid again. "Clean up, now, dinner will be in a half hour. I'd like to speak with Asriel for a moment."

 _Asriel._

You both share a small, secret smile at that, but you take the cue and go to the bathroom under her instructions. You couldn't hear anything through the walls with the sound of running water, so you shrugged off your hoodie and washed your hands. You take in your expression. You seemed...happier.

You heard snippets of muffled conversation once you left the bathroom, and you knocked twice on the wall to alert them before entering. Toriel's eyes were a little red and Asriel looked downright ecstatic, but he quickly smothered it with a scowl in your direction. You stick your tongue out.

"Is everything good now?" You ask, sitting down beside them.

"Thank you," Toriel says, leaning forward to embrace you in a warm hug. You reach out with your other hand to grab Asriel and pull him in, too. He yelps as his roots untug from the wood of the table. "I'll be back soon. One moment."

She gets up and heads to the hallway to the right. You turn to Asriel, but before you say anything he puts a vine up to stop you.

"Call me Flowey," he said, eyes averted. "I've been...Flowey...for such a long time that I think my mind's all messed up. Keep calling me Flowey."

"Sure," you say without a problem. The sound of Toriel's footsteps alerts you both as she returns with an empty flower pot. She reaches down and fills it with soil using another potted plant that stands somewhat tall in the living room.

"Here."

Flowey uncomfortably retracts his roots and sinks into the pot. The ground shifts, but that's about it. His vines fold into themselves a bit, but they stay mostly hanging out of the pot.

"Please come back."

Toriel says this to you this time. _You're going to leave_ is a quiet question left unsaid, but you know it was going to happen sometime and you were sure that Toriel had known it too. Flowey jerks up, a question in his eyes (you can't stay, you love them already but you can't.)

"...I'll text you every day," You finally reply, and the relief on Toriel's face is both heartwarming and sad. "I'll make sure to call often."

"Three times a week," Toriel orders, but the smile tugging at her mouth makes it hard to stay serious. "Thank you."

You stay for dinner. Toriel sets the table and places Flowey in the spot next to you before you take a glance: the butterscotch-cinnamon pie was calling your name. Flowey chomps his down in three bites and attempts to take some of yours too, and although you push his face aside with a protective hand and Toriel tells you both that "we have more! Slow down!" and you're laughing so hard you nearly do choke, Flowey screams as you shove the pot off the table and it's one of the best times you've ever had.

And as Flowey is taken to his room (the children's room: the other side of the room with one lone bed makes your heart tighten), you make eye contact with Toriel and she waves goodbye silently as you head off below the stairs. You will miss her. You will miss them both.

But you had a life to live up aboveground, and damn everything that said you couldn't do what you set your heart to. You glare deep into the empty hall and walk forward.

Your soul swells with determination.

* * *

I've been planning on opening them up little by little, but I guess everything just came out in the second chapter. Oops

see y'all later


	3. Chapter 3

I have ten different things to do and this is the thing i prioritize. good decision-making choices, thats me

* * *

Chapter 3

The stones surrounding the edge of the clearing trembled as the door closed shut with a thunderous _boom_ , the sound echoing ominously as the trees echoed their call. The sky above spanned far further than initially expected, hanging stout stalactites that had the vague translucency of icicles.

The temperature had dropped by several degrees, and the blinding contrast in color forced you to shield your eyes from the ground below: the dark, dreary colors of the ruins starkly differed from the undulating patterns of snow.

Your hands shake, so you shove them into your pockets. The bitter chill seeps through your clothing, and you wish your hoodie had a bit thicker lining inside: you had not planned for cold weather, after all.

The snow crunched underneath your feet as you walked through the door. As soon as your shoes hit through with the beginnings of frost, you had glanced automatically toward the forest with its high, barren trees, wondering if you had somehow managed to get yourself aboveground already. The lack of dense underbrush convinced you otherwise: the mountain had a lot of plant growth, and the trees did not appear to descend from the same species. You held your breath for a moment and listened.

There was the distinct sound of whirring when you moved, stepping forward but treading lightly.

Something more than a chill passed along your spine when you passed a blackened branch laid horizontally across your path. You had stepped over it, but not even a few seconds later you heard a loud _snap_ echo behind you. You whirled, stance lowering and teeth bared: the bandages in your pocket shifted, waiting.

Nobody was there.

You went back to examine the area closer, taking care not to lose your footing and crouching to see better. There was a lack of second footprints near or atop yours, based on the markings on the bottom of your soles. You frowned, standing back up and brushing snow off your legs. The air now left several degrees colder, and you weren't sure if it was your imagination, but there was a hint of a chuckle.

The delta rune remains engraved in the back of your lids as you traverse down the trail. You should have asked Flowey a bit more about the historical meaning of that symbol: it was emblazoned on the goat mother's clothing, along the sides of the runes, at the foot of the cavern you'd fallen into. There were lines of shelves there that you'd glanced at just before you left: reading the spines and opening the first few worn pages gave you ample information.

The second signal that someone was following you happened when you caught the sound of scuffling behind you as you passed a cluster of trees. This time, you practically sprinted as soon as you heard it. You ran as if you heard a gunshot. The bridge neared as you headed towards it without stopping.

The wooden boards creaked almost noiselessly as you stepped one foot onto them, but as soon as you did you froze in place. Not entirely out of your own will, no: when you tried to continue moving, your limbs froze and you nearly buckled under an invisible weight.

Your eyes darted: once to the left, twice to the right. The pace of your breathing slowed as you heard footsteps catch up behind you and resignedly you relaxed your limbs. Your form slumped over.

 _(You felt locked into place. Sporadically you twitched various limbs, searching, seeking.)_

The footsteps came to a halt. You heard nothing for a moment, but as you turned your head a bit you couldn't see anything past where the treeline cut into your peripheral vision. The magic stopped you from aggrieving, but it also gave you little chance for escape.

" _Human."_

There was that cold chill again: it tingled at the back of your neck, and inadvertently your arm reached up to try and cover it but to no avail. It stopped around a quarter of the way up, somewhere just past your hip. It granted more leeway when you had expected, possibly from the initial lack of struggle. The pressure eased, but you stayed still: it was ten times more likely to return if you continued to fight against it.

" _Don't you know how to greet a new pal? Turn around and shake my hand."_

The first thing you see when you are finally able to turn your head are bones: the hand outstretched seems inanimate, almost comical in the way it is held out to you, and as you blankly eye the glinting blue highlight the bone gives as it scintillates convincingly next to the snow you can hear yourself snickering.

You resume a stare-off as you take one look down, stare pointedly at the whoopie-cushion in his outstretched phalanges, and keep your hands adamantly in your pockets.

It was another skeleton. ( _You feel deja vu.)_

The dude - probably a dude, you guessed by the clothing choice, and the pink fuzz-layered slippers were a nice addition to the ensemble - laughed in that similiar chuckling tone, rattling a bit as he withdrew his trap. The trees seem to lean back a little, ominous feeling reduced to a still resignation.

"Hey," he says, greeting kind and friendly as if the first ten minutes of your entry into the sentry area had never happened. "I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton. You're a human, right? That's hilarious."

"Hello," you reply back. You're on edge, even as you physically unclench the fabric in your hoodie as to relieve the strain. "I'm Z."

He gestures behind you at the old-looking, worn wooden bridge behind you. The bars had looked like scaffolding for a moment, but you realized that they had been built more like the parts for a prison cell; however, the poles spread too far apart for them to be of any use in blocking out passerby.

"Yeah, you can just go right on through. It was supposed to keep people out, but...eh." You lean back to start eyeing him warily, taking on a degree of almost exaggerated suspicion before going through the bars and onto the rickety-looking bridge. It creaks, but that's about it.

"By the way, I'm supposed to be on the lookout for humans right now. I don't really care that much, though." He shrugs as if completely unconcerned of the underlying threat of this human in front of him. You step back a little to match pace with him, curiosity overtaking you. He jerks back a bit in an almost surprised manner.

"Why're you hanging back, dude? I don't bite," you tease, nudging him slightly with an elbow. He nearly gets knocked over by the force of your push. "Oops. Sorry. You're light."

The skull area below his eyes and across the bridge of his nose lights up with a faint, feathery hue of color. You blink and it's gone. "Uh, yeah," he stutters back, face shrinking back into his blue jacket. "Not like I have much weight on my bones, kid."

"Oh, no," you groan, putting your face in your hands as your footsteps stop. "You're a skeleton punner. I despise you."

His smile widens even further, if possible. He stops as well. "Can't get too _sternum_ about it, buddy. Your words go _right through me_ , you see."

"Get out," you shriek, and you begin walking again only to put your hands over your ears. "I can't hear you if I'm not listening!"

"Gotta patella you one thing, I had a coupla _rib ticklers_ ready for you here."

"AAAAA-"

The lack of any further prints in the snow confused you a bit when in your harrowed recollection: knowing that nobody else had left the ruins, you were pretty sure that the other skeleton man would've wound up finding his way out by avoiding the other monsters as well. However, the door was hidden in the stairwell of Toriel's house, and you knew for sure that nobody else had stepped through those doors. Toriel was a furious caretaker.

Your movement slows down, and Sans pauses to look back at you as you near a wooden post with a shingled roof, seemingly just as out of place as the cage of bars.

"Hey..." You tilt your head. "Actually, I think I might've met your brother already."

Sans frowns, an expression of confusion forming on his face. "Uh, where'd you meet him? I've been at this sentry station all day, but my brother hasn't come by once."

"Oh, never mind, then," you say quickly, but the feeling of discontent continued, hanging onto you like a lightly grasping cloak. You were missing a few key pieces, you knew it.

Sans watches as you move by, bones rattling. He glanced down, checking the soul within you without initiating a confrontation.

CHECK: 50 HP  
0 EXP  
LV: 1

*You're being followed. The skeleton awaits.*

He has the vague feeling that the skeleton isn't him. His posture tenses, but he follows after you just as warily.

However, both their senses are evaded with ease. Beyond the tracks nearing the sentry station and close to the riverside, rushing waters frothing white at the edges, black ooze drips from the boat the riverperson draws.

* * *

adfgh


	4. Chapter 4

hey im back! i've edited the previous chapters, so if you want to take a look then feel free!

* * *

Chapter 4

The structure of the underground was mindboggling. The place was silent, save for the sounds of crunching snow. There were sure to have been earthquakes and cave fall-ins, though the effect of the tremors likely differed compared to those above the surface. Rocks coming down and crushing the cities created in their haven sounded like the opposite of a good time, especially without much building material to have at making more houses and expanding outward.

There was no infrastructure. If the support the rock was giving finally gave out, this entire place would fall apart and the mountain would implode on itself. Perhaps the runes that the mages made to surround the exit also protected the monsters inside from dying a gruesome and unwanted death by earthquake. That was a heartening idea. The cold was biting, still, and you wished that you could get out of it. Your left hand was getting tremors.

Was the ceiling made of glass, or some sort of reflective material? It was pale blue, much like how the normal sky actually appeared, but in the end there should not have been any light to make it so vibrant or cool-hued. Rock was often settled in warm colors, especially this deep underground.

You almost tripped once, head falling forward with sleep deprivation before catching yourself and pretending that you hadn't just nearly careened facefirst into the earth. Sans seemed concerned albeit struggling not to laugh at your current predicament.

The alcohol bottle you'd long forgotten above near that upturned tree root came back to you in the distant reminder of a sudden headache. The effects of drunkenness were starting to wear off on you, and you were now both sleep deprived and dehydrated. It was long past your bedtime already. At what ungodly hour did the skeleton wake up?

"What time is it?" You mumble, struggling to stay upright and keep your eyes open. "I can't tell how many hours have passed by. The sky is so bright. Do monsters have sleep deprivation too? Do you even sleep?"

"Yeah, we do," Sans replied, although he seemed rather amused as you nodded slightly to and fro, unsteady and unfocused. His arm moved sideways slightly and out of his pocket as if he had the thought to provide some assistance and help you out before thinking better of it and returning to his jacket. You couldn't blame him - you appreciated the intent. "I haven't slept in a week."

You lean in seriously to observe Sans' skeletal features and the lights in his eye sockets blink back, twinkling merrily in contained laughter.

"Hmm, yes," you nod in solemn agreement, stroking your chin as if you had a long white beard attached to it in wizardly fashion. The hat sounded like a good thing to wear before sleeping, anyhow, but you didn't know anyone who actually wore a sleeping hat to bed. You wondered where the idea had come from. "That's quite the serious case, if I do say so myself. I now diagnose you with severe insomnia. Your medication will be further prescribed as 'fool go to sleep before I suplex you into a couch.'"

For some reason, that seemed to strike a chord with him. He broke down laughing as you stared despite yourself.

"No, you," he replied like any respectable adult would. You pretended to cough loudly to hide a cackle.

"Did you just reverse card me? Disrespecting me like this in _this_ house? How dare you."

Sans stared up at the sky as if bemoaning his situation and also pointedly gesturing at the open sky above them, signaling that neither of you were, in fact, standing under a roof of any kind.

This guy was pretty cool.

The walking skeleton seemed to have relaxed slightly, shorter frame walking alongside yours as you exchanged lighthearted banter and continued walking down the path where you saw no footprints coming to or from the sentry area. You wondered why Sans hadn't left any footprints on his way here before realizing that _oh - teleportation powers._

There had been no golden light of sunrise or any signal of mid-afternoon, and the light coming off from the endless ceiling above you seemed to constantly remain bright enough to give some semblance of day, yet cloudy enough that it was not actually blinding. The snow said otherwise, though, and you resolutely kept your gaze on the trees and not on the cold white material compressing itself beneath your foot.

"You seem...alright," Sans said, and from his words he seemed to mean it. "Couldn't really muster up enough effort to look through you any further. I'm _bone-tired_ , you see. Didn't exactly have the heart for it."

You laughed hard. You didn't understand why it sounded so funny, but it was likely because of the sleep deprivation. "Please spare me, I don't think I can _stomach_ it."

Sans was smiling now, better than any of the other expressions he had on his face that seemed to be the standard for him. The sense that he was covering up his on-edge appearance was fading away, little by little, and you were somewhat proud of the effort.

It was moderately calming, in a way. You hadn't talked to anyone other than Flowey and Napstablook and Toriel, and now you were getting to know a surprising acquaintance and a potential new friend.

You remembered what Flowey had told you before you left the ruins. Something about the 'skeleton who wears blue and says an inordinate amount of bad puns.' You couldn't miss it if he were standing right in front of you.

He had told you that the timelines have stopped resetting, and how he had used to reset completely out of boredom. He had realized later that Sans apparently still remembered, and judging by that the guy had been mildly traumatized by the repeated occurrences. Flowey mentioned that he had made the decision to stop using his power entirely from now on, something that he says that you should 'mention to Sans when you have the chance. And, uh, tell him I'm sorry.'

His emotional output was still rather wonky considering the fact that he no longer could feel anything that his former body used to, but you could tell that he was definitely putting in the effort to fall back on it and to remember.

Toriel would respect his decisions if he slipped back or needed some space to reflect. At least, that was what you would do for that situation.

Papyrus mentioned a talking flower once which Sans attributed to the echo flower, Flowey explained, but the actuality was that Flowey had never appeared in front of the one person who remembered the timelines. 'He'd definitely kill me if he knew,' Flowey said with a shiver. 'He's a scary dude.'

You had considered going back to bring Flowey along with you. He had not spoken to Asgore at all recently, he had explained. He was rather keen on staying with Toriel, however, and you knew that when it was time for him to be comfortable enough to leave the ruins he would do so immediately. There was no need to force him to come.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the flicker of something pitch black and oozing. You abruptly flinched, head jerking toward the direction where you thought you saw the figure of the melting skeleton. There was nothing to be seen, only a leaf tumbling its way through the air.

Sans had noticed and began to shift slightly as well, just as on edge and unsettled by your actions. "Are you, heh, on the lookout for something?" He asked cautiously, leaning over to look past you and into the forest further past the sentry gate.

"Just waiting for the tomb party," you said after a long moment. "When's the brother showing up?"

"Right..." The skeleton paused, and that was when you heard the shrieking.

"SANS! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Now."

The person marching up to greet the both of you seemed adamant on giving his brother a telling to, gaze fixated solely on the one he recognized. "I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU EVERYWHERE!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "IT'S BEEN EIGHT WHOLE DAYS AND YOU... STILL HAVEN'T RECALIBRATED..."

He notices you next. "OH! A STRANGER! SANS, WHO IS THIS?"

"A friend." The skeleton shrugs. "They're a ton of fun, Paps. A skele-ton. A bonafide good time."

"SANS! NO!"

The skeleton stomps his foot into the snow angrily. "NO MORE PUNS! FOR THE LOVE OF ASGORE!"

"I don't know, Papyrus. They don't seem to be as _rattled_ because of it."

Sans shrugs toward you in pretended befuddlement while his brother - 'Papyrus' - screamed his head off while walking backward and from whence he came. His stride matched his footprints exactly, giving you some form of respect for his fine motor control skills. That was an extremely hard thing to do while you weren't looking. You've tried it before.

After observing the perfect footprints without one misstep or smudge, you finally observed the broken sign above the wooden post. There was a strange, malformed lamp with no cord sitting directly next to it with no obvious purpose, and you assumed by the way it was shaped that someone had used it for more violent purposes than providing light. There wasn't even a place to put a plug in.

The screaming fades off until you hear nothing left of him, and you are now flabbergasted.

"That..." You said as you stared idly into the distance. "...was the greatest exit I've ever seen in my life."

"He's pretty good at it. He tried the first couple times only to trip into a pile of snow." Sans' smile became wider. "Faceplanted once. I don't know how he managed to do that when he was facing the other way."

"Holy crap." You brightened up.

The fond way he spoke of his brother showed in every movement - he consciously sought out Papyrus whenever the other skeleton was nearby, and he looked more closely at his surroundings instead of becoming absentminded. Well, Papyrus seemed to drag him into the conversation either way. You liked the dynamic.

"So," Sans said, "I'll just hang around here for a while. I'll catch up later. You go ahead. And, uh..."

He lowered his voice a bit for emphasis. "Watch out for snow puns."

You give him an energetic yet bemused thumbs up as you headed on and followed Papyrus out into the middle of nowhere. The forewarning seemed pretty harmless and you weren't going to run for your life at the sound of a joke pun, but what did you know? Maybe snow puns activated something, like a code word. Or a signal. Perhaps they threw icicles at you after speaking anything ice-related. That would be pretty good, to be honest.

Sans watches you leave before turning his head to where you thought you had seen the black melting skeleton, static in his brain as his posture shifted imperceptibly.

And then he teleported out. You did not notice.

Snowdrake and Icecap seemed to be the people Sans had warned you about (called it!), and you meet them almost instantly as you step out past the frozen ice part and through the small clearing where the lone snowman inhabited. You greeted them all cordially, snowman included. It was not animated, its mouth unmoving, but the voice came out of it nonetheless and you assumed it was alive.

(You put the piece you'd retrieved in your pocket and not in your hands. The snow would melt from your body heat and so you kept your left pocket hand-free.)

The monsters you encountered were well-equipped for snow or were literally made out of it. You had noticed the chest sitting innocently on the side of the road and looked in it out of curiosity, only to meet eye to eye with black nothingness and slam it back shut, panicking. That mess reminded you of the mystery monster you'd met before, and you did _not_ want to stick your hand into that thing.

( _Would it disappear into the void? Would it start melting like him?)_

The sentry post further down the line appeared empty at first glance, but then you noticed the small trail of footsteps heading in from the back that hinted how someone was probably there. That, and their footprints were shaped like _pawprints_. You briefly humored the idea that a dog might have wandered its way in before remembering that you had just seen a _goat monster_ and that probably meant you were going to see some freakier shit.

You crept past it silently whilst stopping when you saw the twitch of an ear or the billowing of smoke from behind the counter. It seemed that the monster was smoking, and while you disliked the smell of it you could tolerate it pretty decently. Therefore, you moved on.

The next few steps were noticeably lighter in the snow department as you began walking on frost-covered dirt, the path worn down from many times used to and fro. You looked up to see Papyrus again, and Sans had teleported in just when he wasn't paying attention. Papyrus turned and shrieked loudly in horror.

"SANS! THERE YOU ARE AGAIN! WELL, I SUPPOSE IT WILL BE EASIER IF YOU HELP EXPLAIN MY NEXT PUZZLE... WELCOME!"

"Hello," you said, scuffing the ground with a heel. "So, what am I looking at?"

"THIS IS STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS, BUT RECENTLY I HAVE FOUND THE INSPIRATION TO CREATE AN ELECTRICITY MAZE!" He gestured repeatedly to the ground in front of him. "AS YOU CAN SEE, THE WALLS ARE INVISIBLE! YOU MUST FIND YOUR WAY AROUND THEM LEST YOU GET ZAPPED BY THE ENERGY RADIATING OFF OF THEM."

You stare contemplatively. "Won't the electric shock harm you?"

"SURELY NOT, DEAR STRANGER! I HAVE BEEN ZAPPED APLENTY AND I AM STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE AND WELL!"

"I see." You say this, faltering. "I believe our bodies may be quite different, then, considering how I am made up of 70% water: my body becomes part of a closed circuit, and the electric current will most likely injure me in a permanent way. The muscles will be affected and they may not be able to perform adequately anymore once I am electrocuted."

Papyrus looked horrified. "OH, NO! I AM SO SORRY! I DID NOT KNOW THIS BEFOREHAND! I APOLOGIZE-"

"No, no, it's fine. You couldn't have known." You waved a hand away. "I'll just be careful, I guess."

Sans appeared less lackluster. "You don't have to do it if it's too dangerous. The voltage shouldn't be enough to damage you, but enough shocks might cause some effects."

"Don't worry, dude. I got it."

How badly you were injured would be determined by the pathway of the current when it entered your body. Using your arms and waving them about blindly was the worst way to go through this, as the current would likely flow through the heart in the process and cause immediate death. Large surface burns could also harm the tissues of your skin and lose all of the nerves needed for sensation.

The internal tissues of a human could be burned depending on which part it was and how much resistance it had depending on the material; the muscles and nerves conducted electricity better than the denser parts like tendon, fat, and bone.

The first step you take forward is almost directly on the line, and you immediately begin to roll the sleeves of your sweater up. In the corner of your eye you notice the slight crackle of electricity from the excess energy radiating from the wall and raise a brow, confused. How high was the voltage? Would you get fried instantly?

The hairs on your arm tingle, rising from the static as you move slowly to try and gauge the entrance, and as the feeling of energy fades you pause directly at a certain spot. Distantly, you hear Papyrus questioning Sans in a quieter tone, asking what the stranger was doing pacing around like a maniac. Sans shrugged but watched curiously as well.

"Wall to your left," You could hear Sans say beyond the static. Your senses were sharpened now, blood thrumming from the adrenaline, and you wondered if this was the same feeling you had before a jumpscare. It felt like it.

You cautiously step forward. You do not collide into anything yet, and so you move continuously while Papyrus and Sans say their instructions. You wonder how they managed to create invisible walls - perhaps not literally, but figuratively. The energy radiating formed imaginative walls that you could not pass, and it was just enough so that you were not able to see it with your eyes.

Now that you noticed it and looked more closely, the puzzle was embedded into the earth through small indents to manifest its walls. That explained the energy emitting from it. This seemed to be extremely technology-heavy material, far more so by the ingenious plan of rendering the waves so that it did not stutter or spark but stayed extremely concentrated.

You remembered the toy knife you'd thrown away. There was probably some important reason why it was kept there - the thing was absolutely harmless, something a child could use to play with and pretend they were using it for some purpose.

(Why were you remembering this right now?)

The feeling of airborne electricity stopped once you left the maze, and Papyrus cheered enthusiastically upon your arrival at the other side.

"BRAVO, STRANGER! THAT WAS INCREDIBLE. WELL DONE!"

You nodded, wiping a hint of sweat from the side of your chin. You were getting nervous towards the end there. "Thanks. That was pretty good, to be honest."

Just as you were about to open your mouth again you saw a brief flash of something behind Sans' head and your eyes widened minutely, struck with the sudden sense to run. Your face drained of all color.

Out in the treeline, back where you had come from, you saw the blip of black move away and behind a dark tree, hidden and away from your prying eyes. The jittery feeling came back, cold and unyielding, and you felt something trickle down your back in a fit of fear. Something was there this time, not imagined. _Why was it there?_

The hollowed shape of the disproportioned limbs, its crooked tilt - all of it told you that its existence was unnatural. Yet it was still _moving_ \- phalanges outstretched, one jagged scar on its left eye curving up and over the top of its skull while the other was trained entirely on you, mouth agape and curled upward into two sharp points.

It uttered some strange, garbled words that you could not comprehend, and as it pointed you found yourself following it and taking a glance behind you. There was nothing - only the tall confused skeleton that you'd met recently, and no sign of any terror from the monstrosity you were seeing. You turned back to face it.

It was no longer there.

The feeling of sleepiness was long gone. You stumbled past both Sans and Papyrus, ignoring their concerned shouts and moving like your life depended on it. The static in your ears remained, long and drawn-out and sounding almost like another language. Even more, it sounded like something you _knew._

 ** _Come back._**

 _Why did you know this language?_ You could not remember. The void was all-encompassing, supposed to remain a non-sentient space for inventory and nothing else, and yet every time the skeleton looked at you all you could see were the many eyes of a long-forgotten thing, older than time and ready to take what was rightfully theirs.

The wind rushed past you as you hurtled away from a table carrying a plate of frozen spaghetti - a tree - went around a frozen lake with the intent to run as fast and as far as possible. Time seemed to move slowly at this point, trepidation leading you on along with sheer willpower.

 **Save us.**

You collide into something hard and look up, stumbling back at the height of the thing you had knocked up against.

"...I know this smell." You heard the person growl, and with you stepping back you realized that you had come face to face with a dog. A talking one, at that. "A human's wandering about in our territory."

The fear lessens somehow after it speaks. The thing you were running from could not speak, and it could move at will past any physical barrier. You knew that now that you remembered how the barrier was inside the cave rather than outside. The melting skeleton could phase through its protection.

However, the danger was not over yet. The dogs circled you warily as they scented you curiously, ominous expressions flickering when they recognized it well.

"An adult one." The dog beside him cocked its head curiously. "I smell Papyrus on them, though. Faint, but it's there."

"Eliminate them." The dog shifted the giant axe on its back, and when you jerked back it came forward. The intent to run returned tenfold. "Eli-"

You recognize the hand that drops upon the dog person's shoulder. They stop.

You startle.

"Hey, guys." Sans greets them and the dog retreats immediately, head bowed and no longer baring its teeth. "It's fine here. We can handle it."

"Sans!" The first dog - god damn it you could not differentiate between the two - barked politely. "You're here! Outside! How long has it been?"

"Aw, shucks. Didn't know you cared." The skeleton winks at them, and although they didn't get any concrete reason for his supposed absence they chuckled. "Anyway, it's all good. This guy's with us."

"Oh, really? I'm so sorry, large human!" The second dog yelps. "I didn't know you were with them. I'm so sorry for bothering you. We'll be heading on our way if there isn't any further trouble."

"No problem," you reply, although it sounded monotone even to your ears. You cough and try again. "It's alright."

"No, please. If you ever come by into town, we'll buy you a drink to apologize," the first one speaks seriously. "We'll make it up to you somehow."

"Bye-bye, human!" The other one chimed, and then they both left with their tails wagging.

The headache and the buzzing static were now faded from your system, and as you get back up and onto your feet you nod in thanks to the skeleton who saved your hide. The inebriation really hindered your speed and quick thinking, the two things you needed to not die down here.

 _Monsters were angry, sometimes,_ Flowey had spoken to you. His petals had drooped during this part of the conversation, as if he was not proud of the way his fellow monsters had been acting. _They blamed all the humans. The ones who had set them down here in the first place, the ones who left us here to rot..._ _any of the ones who drop down here are allowed to stay in the ruins and hide, but in the end they always choose to leave._

"So..." Sans stated as the silence began stretching for too long. You were still shaking from two stressful interactions, but the atmosphere had settled down and he was taking no chances to beat around the bush. "Care to explain what the running was all about?"

"The melting man," you blurt out, still shaking. You're kneeling now and you punch the ground to stabilize yourself, for comfort. "Did you see him?"

"The what?" Sans did not appear to recognize the person you had described. It was unlikely that they had ever encountered each other. "No, not that I know of. Haven't seen a melting guy around here. Or any melting person in general. Unless it's that wolf guy that seems to be sweating all the time, but that's just because he keeps throwing ice into the river to exercise."

"The skeleton. Not you or Papyrus. He looked sorta like-" You gesture, pointer finger marking the place where the skeleton's left eye scar was and the lower part of your face. "There were two scars, one right here and the other one was like-"

Sans' hand was on your shoulder before you could speak another word. He looked as if he'd just seen a ghost.

One eye socket had gone dark. However, the other eye, now flaring blue, was shaking in place as it stared out at something you could not see (reliving something once again) before refocusing with startling vigor.

The concentrated color in his once colorless eyes made you blink back in shock. It was _glowing_ _._

"You saw him?"

His voice shook in the effort to keep it steady. "This guy, did you see him? When? And where? Was _that_ the thing that was-"

"Yeah." You point in the direction from where you two had come from. "Out in the forest. He kept saying something, but I couldn't understand and it sounded like static and it was-"

"Hey, hey. Calm down," Sans said, although he looked as if he needed some calming down as well. "Okay. I'm - oh god. Wait here. I'll be right back."

He leaves, but not before sparing you an apologetic glance. You wait there, having no reason to get up and walk away.

It takes a couple minutes, but this time he comes back with Papyrus by his side. The taller skeleton waves cheerfully, then begins to look concerned as you nod back in an unsure manner.

"STRANGER? WHAT IS WRONG?"

"I'm... heh..."

You yawn loudly in that moment, hearing your jaw pop with the motion. Both Papyrus and Sans stiffen, but you're too busy trying to rub away the ache.

"-Tired," you finished, and then your head falls forward.

From the impromptu nap, there are sounds of panicked shuffling before the rustle of cloth accentuates it. "I'll bring her to the house," you dimly hear Papyrus say before you are picked up and tucked against the armor of his shoulder. There is a vague nod of assent and then a zap as Sans vanishes.

And then you fall asleep without another word.

* * *

 _You awaken to the sound of laughter again. Although this time, it's much more strained and much less lighthearted._

 _The taste of butterscotch. Yellow and green. And then, light._

 _The image is clearer. It was likely that the first time had just been a fluke, but now it was obvious that you were starting to sense some sort of pattern. The dreams were interconnected, and the characters within it were the same. You were staring at a scene that you were not a part of yet, and the dream wavered as if becoming lost to memory._

 _The person standing next to you is someone you know very well. Flowey looks out amongst the unknowing monsters, all of them living out their own lives and no longer recognizing the two children of the king and queen. One was dead. The other was gone._

 _He cannot see when you crouch down to wave a hand in front of him. It appears you are a spectator, even to him._

 _"Reset?" He asks himself aloud, and then shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. Nothing here does."_

 _He snaps a vine upward, and that is when you see the single speck glowing white in the shadow you were hiding under, easing into darkened blues and purples as you crept alongside him. The soft glow of Mettaton's 'MTT Resort' is relaxing, oranges and yellows filling the spaces where they reached and turned the city into a spectacular show of colors._

 _The carpet ran until the edge of the gateway, red and velvet just like the rest of the inside establishment. You have never visited the place yourself, but from what Flowey had told you it was a hotel and entertainment center, featuring a restaurant and a fountain shaped exactly like him._

 _It sounded quite lovely. You resisted the urge to turn and leave Flowey in order to take a look inside._

 _"Do you see the star?" The flower suddenly speaks. You jerk forward, wondering if Flowey was now talking to you or not. Your concerns were unnecessary as the plant unfurled a petal to reach for the glowing point, unhindered._

 _The floating light beckons you closer, as if calling for you to reach out to it._

 _"When did I get this power? Does it even matter?" His voice has grown increasingly bitter, becoming more and more cruel with every word he spit out. "It's not like all my emotion has disappeared. It's not like how every time I try to speak to them, they look at me as if I were a stranger."_

 _The final crack in his voice breaks your heart, and he closes off completely after he says the word 'stranger'. The futility of no longer being able to feel the same feelings he used to had not occurred to you as in-depth until now, and you wondered how long he had struggled with it, how long his pretending had lasted only to hurt him even more._

 _He draws back again, and this time he appears open and vulnerable. The urge to reach out to him returns, but you do not try to do it again._

 _"Nothing matters," he mutters, but it's empty and lacking in speech. "Not anymore."_

 _You wait until Flowey pulls himself back into the soil and out of your sight, disappearing off to wherever he wanted to go next. The swirling star rotates in your presence still, waiting for someone to use it as a pulling ground. A focal point, you thought, to help one person get from one timeline to another through determination._

 _The worry left you as you thought of the things he'd done previously, the efforts he'd made to believe that he was somehow lesser than the person he used to be._

 _Did Flowey believe in determination? Did he have any of the qualities it took to carry a soul?_

 _(_ DETERMINATION, BRAVERY, JUSTICE, KINDNESS, PATIENCE, INTEGRITY. PERSEVERANCE. _)_

 _And for some reason, you knew he did. The emptiness was not always there, and for brief flickers of time you saw it when he spoke. There were memories. The warm baked goodness of cinnamon-butterscotch pie, the coloring crayon with the yellow almost completely gone, the tree with the two letters carved into it. They were all there._

 _Perhaps that had meant something to the star, because it expanded and grew brighter by the second as you ruminated. You put a hand up to cover your eyes and it responded in eagerness,_ _the lines beginning to unscramble from their hidden script and read themselves out to you._

 _The Void spoke back. Its tendrils reached out to you, multiple and vast and incomprehensible as they all burned black and hovered ominously, and they sharpened into pinpricks as it held you within its domain with its freezing grip. The soul you had never seen before came up and out of your chest, hovering in midair as both you and they inspected it._

 _What color was it...? You don't remember._

 _The taste of butterscotch returns, and through your eyelids you can still see the sparkling yellow-white of the star as you close them shut. A child's voice laughs cheerfully as they hold a handful of golden flowers, and you smile despite yourself, despite not knowing them at all. They seemed to be enjoying themselves._

 _Then the melting man is there and looking at them, too, and you flinch. But he does not do anything to them other than stare in forlorn, absent silence, and the slumping of his shoulders tells you that he is far more alone than you expected him to be._

 _His expression alerts you to the intent in his actions. Perhaps what you had taken as aggression had been more out of a desperation to be noticed. No one else seemed to acknowledge his presence, not even Sans, who had not noticed he was there even after you had seen him first. The urge to comfort him rises and you step forward to do so, but he is already leaving before you even make your decision._

 _He does not look at you and he leaves the pillar, fading into the wall as if he had never been there in the first place._

 _Why were you still here?_

 _Again, the memory of Flowey returns. His so-called 'incapability to feel emotion' seemed off since the very beginning, since his range varied from anger to fear to sadness, all of them within a less neutral zone and more of a negative tone. That was not an improvement, but it showed that he had the ability to feel compassion again: he was afraid to open up again because all the good intent in the world could not save their sibling from the clutches of death._

 _Perhaps his form of love had twisted over the years because he could not reciprocate the feelings that people gave to him, not again while the memory was still there. Flowey needed an outlet, and although the road he'd chosen seemed terrible in retrospect and his guilt overrode his break in mind he continued to do it simply because he could._

 _Anger was a terrible and effective tool, and it was easy to use because people understood what it meant so easily._

 _His capability to make errors and then fix them in the blink of an eye may have sped along his process of distraction and emotional withdrawal. The consequences were the same as distancing himself normally and to pretend that others could no longer feel what he did - or, perhaps, it had been the other way around. He could no longer become a normal person._

 _That performance really gave a lot more information on him than you had been searching for._

 _You held on to the belief_ _that Flowey remembered how to love._

And then you wake up.

Hours pass before you come to again. It wasn't very much sleep, considering the loud banging and stomping noises in the room next to where you were. You look down to see a wide fleece blanket covering you, then at the coffee table that was standing next to the couch. You were in their living room, you surmised accurately.

There was a thick tome lying on the table that you noticed as you pulled yourself back up on your elbows. The title is long and arduously complicated, so you leave it alone for now. You get up with the intensity of a crawling snail and heave yourself onto your knees, feeling heavy once again as your head whirled from the movement.

You desperately needed several more hours of nap time. You considered lying back down and falling back into the dream you just had.

As if on cue, Papyrus pops his head out of the kitchen with a beaming smile. You wonder if he'd been checking every couple of minutes just to make sure that you were still alive. "HELLO, FRIEND! ARE YOU AWAKE?"

Instead of gracing the skeleton with a response, you choose to roll your head around and earn several sharp and satisfying cracks. You turn it this way and that, waiting to hear the pops before facing Papyrus who seemed to have gotten terrified from the noise and had turned a nice shade of orange.

A brief flicker alerts you, and you whirl around to see that Sans has been standing there behind you and is also giving the same expression as Papyrus.

"You good?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." You blink at his strange response. His eyelights had winked out, cluing you in that whatever you did had been concerning to him. It hits you. "Oh! Oh, the joint cracking thing? I do that sometimes, it's not painful and it doesn't hurt. My bad. I just realized that skeletons probably... don't..."

"DO YOU... NORMALLY DO THAT OFTEN?"

"Sometimes if there's too much buildup of pressure in between the spaces of my joints, it can get somewhat stressful," you explained. "That is often a way to relieve stress. It's not painful for me, and I'm not, uh, breaking any of my bones."

"OH." The handle of Papyrus' cooking utensil has gone down from its defensive position, but he still appeared to be somewhat queasy. "THAT'S GOOD."

"Sorry. I probably should have warned you or something."

"NO, IT IS FINE! THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME, I WAS WORRIED THAT SOMETHING HAD GONE WRONG." He seemed to have perked up again, ducking back into the kitchen as you ruminated over all the things you've said and done over the last couple of hours that may have been offensive in retrospect. Perhaps rude.

Was making a skeleton pun weird? If Sans cracked a human pun you'd be rolling on the floor laughing, so maybe not. Monsters had been trapped underground for thousands of years, though, so maybe you'd stick to tentatively skirting around the subject.

The other pieces of furniture decorating the living room seemed to fit the atmosphere that those two gave off very well. There was a sock lying next to the TV with several yellow sticky notes attached to the wall, and as you stepped closer to read them you held back a chuckle so Papyrus wouldn't notice.

You learned eventually that the book on the table was about quantum physics and puns, and when you asked Papyrus about it he huffed and muttered things about how Sans had a penchant for anything that mentioned quantum physics and other science-related topics. Papyrus enjoyed cooking, especially spaghetti, which was perfect considering you really enjoyed that food as well.

The panicked expression on Sans' face did not bode well when you saw him open the door with a loud bang. You hadn't even noticed him teleporting back out. He relaxed minutely as Papyrus came rushing back into the living room, hands on his bony hips and appearing to intimidate his brother by looking as disapproving as possible from his current state of action. His teleporting sporadically should have given Papyrus multiple heart attacks over the course of your short rest.

He pretended that nothing was wrong. From the looks of it, neither of you were buying his faked nonchalance. That was a relief.

"Oh, you're up." Sans puts his hands in his pockets casually, nodding. "Sup, Papyrus. How's the spaghetti?"

"PERFECT, AS ALWAYS." Papyrus stops to speak in a softer tone. "SIT DOWN, SANS. YOU ARE SWEATING AGAIN."

Sans' eyes dart away and to the nearby curtain, which had been drawn over to prevent anyone outside from peeking in obtrusively. Their house was very close to several other buildings by which you noticed through the lights peeking through the fabric and the sound of activity further down the road. You cannot make out any individual voices.

Eventually, he complies. Sans sits down next to you with a _whoomph,_ and despite you knowing that he probably weighed less than a dead cat you move your legs off the couch and out of your sleeping position. You vaguely wonder if you had taken your shoes off or if someone else had done that for you.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BROTHER THESE DAYS?" Papyrus shakes his head in a lighthearted manner despite the heaviness of Sans' gaze. He did not seem to keep up the pretense anymore. You nudge him and his eyelights turn to you numbly.

"Gonna put a sock in it, huh?" You say, smile on your face.

Somehow, the pun seemed to have worked. Sans began grinning more wholeheartedly at the sticky notes you were inadvertently pointing out, even as Papyrus groaned and headed over to check on the boiling pot of water. You peeked in to see that the heat was turned almost all the way up and abruptly froze in place, smile stuck. Sans began chuckling at the expression you made as you gesture at it frantically, and with a turn of magic he set the temperature to an acceptable amount of heat.

It seemed to be enough distraction for Papyrus to stop listening. Sans began to look somber again, getting up and tugging at the sleeve of his jacket.

The silence encompassing the living room worried you. There was a trash can that you tried throwing one of the gum wrappers you found in your pocket into, only for it to miss and Sans to grin amusedly as you grumble, dragging yourself up to retrieve it. Then you checked the couch and found many loose coins, pilfering from the dragon's nest before Sans could get the chance to steal the money.

Then you stack them neatly on the table. On second thought, you didn't really need any currency around, and from the looks of the many bills Grillby had sent to their mailbox Sans probably needed it more than you did.

Sans looked as if he were about to speak, but seemed to have second thoughts. He got up again with a small grunt, gesturing for you to follow.

"Gonna take a shortcut," he said, head tilting. "Come on."

The urgency in his voice gave you incentive to follow, but you still hesitated as the event from before struck you once again.

The stove was still on and you were beginning to feel the first pangs of hunger, but begrudgingly you got up and out of your seat in order to follow him out and back into the cold. You drop the sleeves of your hoodie as you do so, bracing yourself for cold.

You shove your feet back into your shoes and trail after him, wondering where he was leading you. The blink was faster than you thought, because instead of seeing snow and bright lights as soon as you opened the door you saw nothing but dark shapes and the glint of metallic surfaces. Sans shut the door behind you and flicked the light switch on, dousing you in fluorescent lights coming from the ceiling.

The extreme change in surroundings makes you surprised. You spin in a circle and do a full check on the location, wondering how and why you managed to end up in a small room that had the same paint as the rest of their house. Was it another room? Sans' study?

"Didn't wanna talk about it so soon. You passing out really shook me to the bone," he joked, and the pun made you smile again.

His humor died, though, as his attention moved to the billowing cloth covering the outline of something you could guess as machinery. There were several wires peeking out from underneath the cover and attaching to a separate part, one that was also hidden away by piles of books and other paraphernalia. The variety of menagerie made you raise a brow - you had not expected Sans to be a hoarder. Or perhaps you had.

He anxiously pulled out a blueprint from underneath the items and spread it out on the oaken table, pulling a pin from a tin box he had in a drawer and sticking three down with practiced ease. (Had he done this before?) You await with bated breath as he reached out and grabbed the hem of the cloth from the machine he had been hiding.

"This." He removed the drape from the large machine, and you looked upward. "The thing that took Gaster away. I remember it clearly. I don't know why I didn't before."

( _The name spoken gave you tremors somehow. It sounded forbidden to you, like a long-forgotten secret that was meant to be kept buried.)_

The thing was infinitely large, held together by a mishmash of wires and bolts and metal plates that had been shaped together to form its outer appearance. There were parts of it that had fallen off or been undone, bits of metal that had been charred black and melted while some wires had been entirely ripped off to show the lines underneath. You remembered the electricity maze and averted your eyes, careful not to remember it.

The clearing of his throat alerted you once again. "W.D. Gaster was, uh..." He fumbled with a small notebook in his hands until he found the right page. "We were both scientists, willing to work on whatever project Asgore had assigned to us. Things to make life easier down here, information on the workings of the monster soul, and ways that we could possibly subvert the effect of the barrier, let alone attempt to break it entirely. Gaster knew the runes best."

You listened intently. The melting man now had a name to his face, and you wondered how long it had been since someone had remembered him long enough to utter his name. The thought made a pang of regret course through you. Appearance alone had scared you enough to run, and he could not speak to try and explain whatever he had been doing.

"We were handling teleportation magic. I am capable of moving from place to place beyond any comparable speed as you've noticed before, but only in places that I've already traveled to. Jumping through the barrier was an impossibility, since I'd never stepped one foot outside the gate." Sans coughed a bit before shaking his head. "Gaster wanted to change that probability. He wanted to see if we could warp space-time and move ourselves out of the magic range."

His explanation petered off there, and instead of continuing he thrusted the notebook to you as if burnt by the words scribbled down in a hasty scrawl. You read further down the entry and you lower your gaze respectively, breaking eye contact in order to continue reading.

Sans' magic broke space-time. Wanting to harness that power, they agreed to create a machine that used that power and replicated his own abilities, strong enough to hold a gateway for more than three seconds. It had worked - but instead of lasting long enough, something went wrong. Gaster became accidentally caught between the rift, taken before either of them could even move. The screams he'd heard from him - they were inhuman, horrendous, and nightmare-inducing.

Sans had hidden away for months after that, keeping to himself for many days at a time so that he could concentrate on how to fix it, fix the mess that he'd made of the both of them. Gathering up enough courage to try again still ended in failure. His attempt to rework the machine only ended in loss.

He decided to keep logs in case he fell into periods of relapse, or memory loss, or in case he mixed up some parts from another timeline into his own. He kept it on his person at all times despite himself, and when he wondered if putting it into the void would keep his notes untouched he attempted it and pulled it back out after several resets within the same day.

Gaster's idea _had_ worked. The void did not share the same properties as the timeline did, since its magic deflected any space-time shenanigans. However, they had not expected the backlash they would face. They had never studied the void's properties before, not when the repercussions could damage them.

And then the time shifts started. Sans thought he had finally gone insane from the experience of watching Gaster essentially become ripped apart over and over again, but the resets were sporadic and he lost count of how many times he had thought he was sensing a pattern before they stopped altogether. He had wondered if the machine had caused this loop at first, but then he remembered that it had been months after Gaster was gone that the resets began.

How he had forgotten it before then, he did not know. It was as if the world itself was trying to erase all memories of the being, wipe it away until no evidence was left at all.

There was one time where his day had repeated six times in a row, within a twenty-four-hour time span, and he had nearly gone berserk from it.

He just wanted the nightmare to end.

So in the end, he had given up. Whatever tinkering he did to the machine could either backfire so badly that Sans would become involved physically as well or the reset would occur and he would be back where he started, unable to work anymore.

The resets had messed up his sleeping schedule. He remembered things, even if his body didn't, and so his mind played tricks on him while he stayed up longer and longer hours even when the resets happened so that he was supposed to be well-rested. His brother had noticed, so Sans had joked it off in the form of idle laziness. He was tired.

He had spent so long struggling to fix his mistake, only to realize in the end that whatever the void took, it did not give back.

The way he spoke of the void reminded you of how Flowey had mentioned Alphys' amalgamates. He had been created from the soul conjoining into a shared body, but because the plant did not already contain a soul he became its true mind. However, the dead monsters already had the bodies of several souls and thus were forcibly fused together into one. The result was eerie and unlike anything he had ever seen.

"The talking flower that Papyrus mentioned," you say to him now. This was the time. "It wasn't an echo flower. It was a person."

* * *

thank you for reading. hopefully I'll be able to finish this other project I've been doing and hunker down on most of my stories. I've been focusing on a whole lot of things at once, so not everything will be updated at the same time. I really love Undertale, though, so I know I'll keep pushing through.


	5. Chapter 5

oh man im so hungry

also! I need to write something else after this one, so who knows when I'll update next. It'll be Undertale related though, so check it out!

* * *

Chapter 5

It was quiet. The lack of any movement from the dead machine did nothing to ease your bloodshot nerves.

The tapping noises were not from the rain leaking through the ceiling, but rather the telltale drumming of bones across the wooden table that the skeleton had situated himself against. It was distracting, but perhaps it was exactly what he needed.

Sans' eyelights had sharpened to mere pinpricks as he listened to your tale. When he heard how Flowey had been speaking to everyone in a not-so-friendly manner, telling them secretive whispers from things that he had not been aware of, he became even more fidgety as the hood of his jacket came up. You pause before telling him that Flowey was Asriel reincarnated.

The fact that he hadn't bolted yet when you told him this spiel was surprising. If it were you, there would already be one leg out the door while the next prepared to begin a marathon run halfway across the underground. (Well, if someone had told you that monsters had existed before all this, you probably would've punched them in the gut.)

You share an awkward silence. Oh, wait, maybe not - he looks as if he's dissociating slightly. Perhaps telling him this now was a bad idea. In retrospect, maybe you should've told him this from the beginning. No, he'd probably have teleported out. Or killed you. Or both.

"Alphys fixed him," you said while scratching at your arm. "Well, 'fixed' is maybe not exactly the right word for it. She knew that monsters could not absorb monster souls, and the same for human beings who did not know that souls existed in the first place. So she experimented using one of the golden flowers. The plan worked, and Flowey was brought to life."

And that was exactly how you had met Flowey: the angry, bitter, and resentful monster who had wished more than anything to feel something _good_ again. The thought of it sent shivers up your spine, and not in a positive way. He had died and come to the realization that nobody remembered him anymore. Toriel stared at him as if he were an imposter. The ones from the ruins were afraid of his presence.

The problem always seemed to come back to his ability to reset. It had really messed him up.

Determination, by itself, was a nuisance. To have the capability to make decisions without suffering the consequence of other effects made one apathetic, able to manipulate other people as they pleased. If Flowey were ever to be bored, he could settle for choosing more unsavory things. His morals turned grey, and his ideals changed.

That was exactly what had happened to him.

You wondered what could have been done if Flowey had chosen to open up from the very beginning, to give Toriel the chance to know that her son was still alive - just in a slightly less fur-covered body. Asriel's pictures were placed in the photobook within Toriel's room, and you had noticed it while she had pulled it out to show you the person he used to be.

Thing was, the other reason you were reluctant to ask Flowey who all these people were was that you yourself had never encountered them and you would be basing a first impression off of Flowey's (biased, nihilistic) opinion.

 _'Stupid,'_ he had called Alphys with a sneering grin _. 'Weak and weak-willed. Easy to please.'_

It appeared that the news was still settling in Sans' mind. He tapped the side of his skull for a while as he stared off into the corner of the room - the tapping, was it a nervous tic? - and stopped talking entirely, blocking himself off from any further conversation. You waited until he came to again.

The information dump _had_ to be a lot for one person to handle. Therefore you waited in kind for Sans to muster up any sort of response, indicating that he was still fine and dandy.

"So," he began. "This 'Flowey' you speak of is actually the King and Queen's son, Asriel Dreemurr."

"Yeah."

"Aand she's actually the caretaker of the ruins now."

"...Yeah."

He ran his hand over his eye sockets, phalanges hanging limply there. For a moment, an angry expression passed over his face and you flinched abruptly. But it didn't seem to be directed toward you at all, and it disappeared just as quickly as it had come. You relaxed.

"Well, she goat me there. I just thought she was some other monster living in the ruins, but it turns out she's the _royalist_ of them all."

You choked on a snort. He made a short bow in your direction and shoved one hand casually into his pocket, watching you attempt to stop smiling. It wasn't working too well, based on how Sans' grin seemed to become wider.

Apparently he was taking it all in stride. Either that, or he was very accustomed to letting things happen the way they did before going with the flow. That was something you were prone to doing as well, so you inwardly high five the skeleton dude.

"God damn it, Sans."

Silence.

"So, uh," you speak up after a while. "Should this be the moment where one of us gets angry at the other for not telling each other sooner?"

"Kid, we literally just met-" he checked his wrist and mimed an invisible stopwatch, which you cackled at - "eight hours ago, and then you fell asleep for around five of them."

You wheezed. "True."

He shrugs. "Besides, putting it into a normal conversation where you introduce yourself and then go, 'hey, look, I don't even know you, but I have this super-duper important thing to say that's directly related to almost all of the problems that exist in your life. No pressure.'"

"Does anyone else know? About the Gaster thing."

He puts his head in his hands. "Probably not. Not that I ever asked anyone. I think we all just simultaneously forgot."

Your hand tightened inside your pocket. "Shit. If I only knew how to translate whatever the fuck he was saying to me..."

"Well, isn't that just a skele-ton of troubles on your mind."

"I _cannot_ believe you're dewing this to me right now," you mourned, and just as you spoke a drop of water fell from the ceiling and into a puddle with a small _plink._ "I get you're a comic, Sans, but you're going to drive me up the wall someday. This is a serious question."

"Whoops. I'm just trying to make sure you're not causing trouble. Raining on anyone's parade is an ex-dropping experience and - wait, come back, where are you going? I promise I'll _drop_ the subject."

"I'M NOT LISTENING," you yelled, already halfway down the rest of the room in order to reach the door while covering your ears. "I'LL SEE YOU INSIDE."

The door opened back up to the living room. You promptly shut the door behind you and locked it.

Then you fall to the floor, exhausted. That was a conversation you did _not_ want to go through again, despite how important it had been for Sans to mention it. There were a lot more questions on your mind, but you let it go when you hear a loud _thump._

The shit-eating grin when he teleported onto the couch just after you turned back around made his day, and your unfazed, deadpan glare only made it even more worth it. He began chuckling, bone-shaking laughter filling him with joy as you pretended that he didn't exist and slumped over him in a heap.

There was no escape from the puns. You fell onto his boney lap just as Papyrus called for the two of you loudly, gesturing to come over and into the kitchen.

The lack of response made Papyrus lean back curiously and notice that the two of you were not getting up.

Sans couldn't move even if he tried, and so the both of you laid there like a couple of potatoes while Papyrus stomped into the living room and saw you slumbering away.

"SANS! YOU HAVE INFECTED MY NEW FRIEND WITH YOUR ABHORRENT AND LAZY ATTITUDE!"

"I don't know, Paps. They seem pretty damn pasta out."

"SANS!"

You finally shoved yourself off the couch while snickering and landed hard with a _whoop_ before they could continue to banter with each other. "Okay, time to go," you said, and with a heave you headed over to the table.

The wooden seats were comfortable enough for you to draw your legs up and to the side, soft cushion easing weight on your kneecaps as you put an arm over the chair's support. Papyrus soon followed in after, carrying Sans under one arm. You watched as he placed Sans down as if setting a piece of furniture before turning back to the pot.

And oh, _wow,_ that was a really big stain on the wall. How many tomatoes did he even use? How did some of it even get on the ceiling?

"So," Sans drawled, and your attention turned back to him. "What now? Are you going to the barrier? Meet our king?"

You pause and blink. "Oh, yeah. I was too busy running from certain things and chasing after others to really stop and take it all in."

"THAT IS A GOOD IDEA! YOU ARE WELCOME TO STAY HERE ANYTIME! OUR DOOR WILL ALWAYS BE OPEN."

"Really? Thank you so much. I'd appreciate that."

The most interesting thing you remember from before you fell down was the runes, how you tried tracing them and understanding what that dialect was exactly. The crackling code that Gaster had spoken, you tried to think of anything you could repeat in order to break down the individual parts.

It sounded only like static to you. The thought made you jerk back to attention when Papyrus placed down a plate of spaghetti in front of both you and Sans, waiting eagerly for you both to try it.

"PLEASE, EAT! IT MUST HAVE BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOU'VE HAD A MEAL."

That was most definitely true - you had left Toriel's place and the soup she'd made had been astounding, along with the plethora of fruits and vegetables that she had gathered from some of the kind monsters you now knew as Vegetoids. The thought warmed you up again, and you sheepishly picked up your fork.

The snail pie she'd mentioned didn't even sound that bad, to be honest. Snails were not your thing, but she had improvised and added other ingredients that were more towards a quiche instead - meat-based, definitely.

"Thank you again for letting me eat here," you say as age-old ingrained lessons kick in and you bow your head politely. "The underground... the monsters here are so nice. I'm so honored to have met the both of you."

And before you say anything else utterly reprehensible, you shove the fork in your mouth.

The fire for the spaghetti had been set high for very long during your slumber up until the return from the secret room, so the food was soggy in some places (way overcooked) and perfectly fine in others which was absolutely alright with you.

Yet again, you felt yourself smiling through the fork.

"It's really good," you said in surprise. "You did great, Papyrus."

Unbeknownst to you, Sans' eyes widened as you began shoveling more food in your mouth and Papyrus started tearing up in the corner of his eyes, happily reflecting over his new friend enjoying the wonders of spaghetti.

The food actually wasn't that bad. The orphanage kids had tried cooking by themselves once, just whenever the matrons weren't looking and with you as their supervisor to make sure they didn't hurt themselves in the process. Their dishes were... nightmarish. But still, you ate each and every one because wasting food was the worst thing you could do to them and you didn't care if you threw it up later. They had enjoyed it.

Besides, spaghetti was a really hard dish to mess up that badly. Seafood, like oysters and clams, really made your palate sour. Anything else was pretty much fair game.

Hunger now abated, you pick up the plate and stack it over Sans', whose meal was gone by the time you looked up again. You didn't question how fast he ate the spaghetti, if at all. The telltale noodle sticking out of his jacket pocket spoke wonders, though, and you found yourself scrunching your nose up as Sans pretended he didn't see you staring.

"I'll be heading out," you say after finding yourself a second helping. The food wasn't even that bad, and you were wondering why Sans looked as if you had plucked the eyeballs out of a carcass and ate it in front of him. "Thanks for your hospitality...and the rest."

"NO PROBLEM, FRIEND! I AM WILLING TO HELP YOU ANYTIME."

He frowned then as if he were forgetting something and had just realized what the thought had been. "I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU'VE TOLD ME YOUR NAME YET, CORRECT? I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED IT IMMEDIATELY IF YOU DID."

Sans shrugs when you glare at him. You were sure you'd mentioned your name before and he'd merely forgotten to inform his brother.

"My name is Java. But you can call me Z."

"Can catch a few z's myself," Sans jokes, and you grumble in pain. Papyrus smacks his brother upside the head before he could have the further chance to pick up a couch pillow and scream into it in mock rage.

The novelty of the drunken stupor you'd been having for the past few hours was finally wearing off. Their welcome had been nice, but already you were starting to get an itch to leave before something happened and you compromised your situation. You weren't sure whether Papyrus would suddenly jump to capture you if you revealed yourself as human.

Sans doesn't seem to have told his brother yet. It's a relief.

After picking up any items that may have fallen off the table, you get up and place the dishes in the absurdly tall sink before saluting to the two. "I'll see you later."

"See ya," Sans says, and Papyrus shouts a "GOODBYE, Z!" as you finally leave the house and head on out into the wild.

"Hasta la vista."

Snowdin was a quaint, heartwarming place despite the cold biting into you the moment you stepped out into the snow. You shivered and walked briskly past the remainder of the buildings and down the riverside, which continued to flow alongside you at a slow and easy pace. One of the ice cubes fell below the dark river and disappeared, making you double-take before moving on.

You take out the phone you'd been given by Toriel and flip it open, checking to see if you'd gotten any messages from the goat monster. Attempting to press some of the buttons were rather difficult, as some had the letters scratched off or were stuck and had to be used with more force. You eventually gave a scrambled 'hjelluio' before sending it, praying that Flowey would be able to translate.

The screeching laughter was already in your ears. You tried not to make any expression from the thought of it.

The surrounding area began to grow darker and darker, and as you looked up you realized that the cave entrance had stretched shadows across the dirt in a somewhat menacing manner. The glowing mushrooms dotting their way along the walls made it slightly more accessible, and you tried not to reach down and pluck one out from its spot in case they were actually poisonous. Or extremely rare.

Shrubs and other still life growing out from the ground were almost all glowing as well, and their light emanated brightly enough until the entire cave seemed to shine with their presence. The crystals seemed to add into that factor, adding more reflective surfaces for it to bounce off of.

Yet again, the thought of how the orphanage was probably doing in your absence made you pause before walking even faster, clutching the phone in your pocket. There was no signal and no way to call them without getting static - when you tried the orphanage, only the sound of that cursed wrong number song showed up and you growled to yourself in annoyance.

The bandages had been bloodied up completely when you woke up, and you'd resorted to using whatever cloth strips you had left from your shirt. At least it wasn't freezing, and for most of the time the alcohol had been enough of a distraction for you to stop noticing, but it was starting to feel again in pangs. Strenuous activity was not on your bucket list at this stage.

The sound of rushing water was still there, but the river itself had vanished, likely flowing in through some of the walls and further down into the network system. Before you keep walking to follow after, you notice an indent in the wall.

"What...?"

You peer closer at the runes.

The writing was blue this time, similar to the rest of the underground foliage and the occasional insect, but upon touching it the runes promptly vanished. You traced after it curiously, traveling while keeping an eye out for the rest of the undecipherable code.

(It flickered at times as if the words themselves were changing. You wondered if you were supposed to see this.)

The rock face was still glowing. You started hacking away at some of it with a nearby stone, ignoring the recoil traveling up your arm in favor of collecting some of the dust. A few pieces of rock fell into your waiting hand, and you observed them as the parts where the rune had been stopped glowing once separated.

You pocket the remaining stone pieces anyway and chuck the rock you'd been using aside. You cross the bridge.

The echo flowers follow after the sound of your footsteps as you move past yet another sentry station. No one was around, luckily, except for a Whimsun who quickly ducked away at the sign of your presence.

There was a separate path leading up to a cliff's edge. You wandered about, trying to find an easier path up, before shrugging and scaling up the wall using crevices and jutting roots as handholds. There was nothing of notice when you checked above, so you jumped back into the shrubs that looked suspiciously like seaweed before stomping away.

 _(The clanking of metal echoed behind you before fading out as well. You barely notice it.)_

Ducking to check on the water's temperature let you know that the water was still somewhat cool, so you look around to see who else has found solace in staring out past the water's edge. A few monsters were in your close vicinity, but none of them attacked you as you pulled your hood over your head.

You greeted Loox with a small nod and a wave. Its eye did not move, and carefully you avoided saying anything while backing away in the notion that the monster didn't want to be bothered. You guessed correctly - it looked much happier by the time you were out of its sights.

Whimsalot and Final Froggit hovered closely together as they floated by on one of the rocks traveling on the waterway. You briefly studied their silhouettes, wondering if they needed any assistance coming back to shore, until Whimsalot picked up their friend's hat and flew away. Final Froggit jumped into the water and swam in strong, powerful strokes after them. You blinked.

Madjick bowed to you, floppy disc of a hat bobbing politely as he did so. "Please and thank you," he murmured before babbling away, body winking out of existence.

A tall being stood near the waterfall as it dropped rocks down below. You cautiously neared it, but shook when it trembled.

Knight Knight's staff slammed into the floor with a sharp _thunk,_ resonating with the reverberation. The strike proved to be far more effective than you'd expected when you saw hairline cracks from the pole spreading out like a black spiderweb.

You look upward at her face for a moment, wondering what had made her get so angry, when you realized that she was actually fast asleep and she had dropped her hand from her weapon, letting it go in the process. Inwardly, the thought of it slicing your feet in two made you shiver and you discreetly sidestepped her as you continued on.

More monsters appeared. Moldsmal, Loox, Aaron, another Moldmal, another Aaron...

A sound startled you, and you turned to see a close resemblance to one of the monsters you'd met previously. Astigmatism opened its eye and dilated upon noticing another person in the room. "Don't pick on me," it said softly, and you nodded as you avoided moving in too close for an encounter.

Its sigh of relief was all you needed to hear before you ducked past another corner.

Woshua burbled as you passed by, rubber item within its bathtub-shaped back rising and falling with the water's surface. You nodded as it chirped a 'get clean! get clean!' and placed your hands for it to tip the clear liquid over. You felt something soft surrounding you and marveled at the green magic, making small cuts that you hadn't noticed before on your arms fade away.

The stalactites in the ceiling sparkled and shimmered with blue light, emanating its hues and colors across the floor of the hallway. The cave was dimmer in parts, but the lanterns came to life whenever something tapped on them. You didn't ask how it worked.

There was a basket full of umbrellas. You picked a red one and unfurled it, springing the lock open. It stayed up in a wide arc, shielding your head from any wayward drops.

Instead of continuing past the rest of the umbrellas, you remembered that you were forgetting something and turned back to assess the statue currently being pummeled by rain. You didn't question it and placed the handle into the statue's arms. It fit perfectly as if it was always meant to be there. After a moment, you left the area.

You listened to the echo flowers until their words became jumbled, tapping the mushrooms as you went.

A Moldbygg gave you quite the surprise. You greeted it curiously, thinking it to be one of the Moldsmals that you'd seen earlier and throughout your travels only for it to rise up and spook you. The pleasant nod you gave it placated the creature, and with that instigation settled you traveled on.

The monsters seemed friendly, but perhaps that was because of the way you were naturally trying to avoid most of them. The light couldn't make out most of your face, which was very lucky for you as you continued on without much purpose. Sightseeing, mostly. That was the right term for it.

But the barrier prohibiting the monsters from leaving concerned you.

It reminded you of the broken pieces up when you fell through the hole in the ground, the symbols on the walls of the ruins, the glowing path that you were still tracing in the promise that it would lead you somewhere. What were you accomplishing? What could you do that the other fallen ones had not?

Eventually, it stopped. You ended at a pathway with no wall, but after checking it thoroughly you realized that there was actually an opening that was excruciatingly hard to see the first time, and at the wrong angle. You passed through and kept moving.

The clanking of armor alerted you. In your path stood a tall, spear-wielding monster.

 _(Nowhere to run. Go forward and die.)_

Undyne glares through the helm of the silver armor she had equipped, tinted black from having one half of her cast in shadow. The tension increases as you stop in place, unable to keep your eyes off of the very obvious threat.

You laugh nervously.

"Human-"

"Ahahaha, nope!" you say. She stops. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope."

And then you're quickly running back the way you came, large and thunderous footsteps indicating that you were not going to stick around to whatever the person had in store for you. The arguably short-ranged weapon had skewering potential if you did this wrong, but luckily the environment would be able to block most of her hits.

This was an unacceptable way to die. You did not want to be defeated by someone who actually knew what they were doing, let alone had the full intent of carrying through with their plan. You wanted to die in the least painful way possible, and bleeding out was not one of them.

There was an incredulous period of silence, and then Undyne screeched loudly, "Wait! Come back here! Stop fucking running!"

There was no way in hell you were going to try and go past her. Briefly, you consider stopping and letting her get close enough just to spite her when you continue running off, but then the menacing glare of light emanating off the wall stops you from going through with that idea.

You duck when you hear the sound of her spears whistling past your head, blue magic glowing for a brief moment before extinguishing. Your heartbeat pounds against your chest as you weave around corners and tall weeds, covering your tracks while praying that she would eventually have a limit to those things. After manifesting enough energy you put on a second boost, startling the person behind you as she attempts to outrun your pace but utterly fails.

The armor probably wasn't helping much, either. Your strides are long and you've run long distances before, but it was starting to affect your breathing as the wound opened up again. _Fucking shit._

You were probably going to bleed all over yourself by the time you stopped to take a short rest.

"Motherfuck!" Undyne shouts.

She crashes into an unsuspecting boulder behind you, and you momentarily yell over your minor success. You're nearing the wooden bridge again, and the falling rocks are child's play to you as you avoid getting yourself pushed off into the platform below. Undyne snarls as she misses her next chance, halting just before the next rock forces her behind even further.

For some reason, Sans is at the sentry station when you return to the stop. He blinks curiously at your panicked expression, then looks behind you to see Undyne rampaging with the fury of a raging bull on fire, and his eyelights vanish.

"Oh, shi-"

You picked him up out of pure instinct, earning a startled "oof!" and continue running, ignoring the surprised yelp from Undyne as she realizes you'd just captured a hostage. No time to backtrack, though, and you run while holding Sans in your arms as he stares up at you, glowing tiny white circles for eyes that just continued shrinking.

There was no time to adjust your grip, either, so you settled for the impromptu bridal carry as he held on for dear life.

"Well, you just swept me off my feet."

"Sorry! I wasn't thinking!" You rush your words as you barrel past the river, down past Papyrus' mailbox, nearly slam the both of you into the Gyftmas tree before you spin ninety degrees to the right and duck behind the iceberg house.

Undyne seems to have been flabbergasted when you disappear in front of her. Slowly, you creep out back and make a break for it so you can head back around to the cave entrance, hearing her turn and shriek again in surprise before slumping over. It appears that she's run out of stamina.

Sans seemed to be handling this perfectly well despite the death threat you'd just placed on the both of you, and for that you promised inwardly to treat him to dinner sometime. The suffering you put yourself through made you sigh, and then you waited for Undyne to appear again as you made the shortcut back into Waterfall.

You nearly dropped him as you slowed to a crawling pace, still full of adrenaline and breathing heavy. Sans wasn't saying anything, still, but you assumed that he was alright enough considering he hadn't jumped out of your arms yet. Or teleported.

The blood on your shirt informed you that the wound had broken in once again, and you needed to wash it soon before the fabric stiffened.

The river was still ice cold when you put your hand in, but you washed out the spot anyway. Going deeper into Waterfall would probably help with the freezing, but it would take a while before it dried completely.

You have absolutely no words for what just happened. The excuses leave your brain before you can even think to open your mouth, and you sigh in resignated defeat.

"...Is she gone?" You ask after returning to the sentry point.

Another moment, and you put Sans down before anything else happens. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stood with you as you warily checked behind the cover of the trees every few minutes, just waiting for someone to pop out and scare you.

"Yup. Went to visit Papyrus."

"I'm willing to pretend this never happened if you promise me to never speak of it again."

"Speak of what again?"

You snort at his unflappable humor. He seemed to be staring at something within the water, so instead you peer over to take a look as well.

The waterfall carried many pieces of junk that humans had thrown away deep into the mountains, often things that they wanted to be kept secret. Things they wanted never to return. Perhaps that was where the legends had come from and why the people of Ebott had trusted it so much, but the results were that the monsters could use whatever parts the humans had thrown away.

A heavy-looking couch floated over to you two, and you nudged it a bit to let it continue to float down the water and to wherever its final resting place would be. You furrow your brow in contemplation as you process his words.

"They know each other very well?"

"Yeah. She's teaching him on how to become part of the royal guard."

"Hm. Cool."

He paused before picking something off of the next item floating down and giving it a slight shake. It jingled merrily and he brightened, pocketing the bell for future use. You suppressed a giggle and averted your gaze in order to check on a piece of a scarf, patterned and half-waterlogged from the grimy water. With a quick wipe you noticed something lying underneath and rummaged through the remainder of the garbage piled up, withdrawing a small instrument that you remembered seeing before.

It felt right, sitting there in between your fingers. You grasp tight and don't let go. It seemed to be in decent shape, although most of the decorations had been scratched off and it was showing signs of wear. Luckily, there didn't seem to be any rust on the keys.

"What's that thing?" Sans asked, head craning over your shoulder to take a look.

"Forgot the name. Shoot. It's a finger harp."

You press down on the metal keys and let it go, hearing the sound ring clear through the box. It was slightly dingy and you tilt it sideways, letting the murky water pour out of it.

You try again. It played a little better this time. The sound seemed to have stunned the skeleton beside you, and he freezes in place.

The melody you played was just something you remembered from the old lady you'd met. She sang it whenever the children asked for a lullaby, and it soothed your heart more often than you could count. It promised old things, of gnarled trees aged far past human years and roots embedded deep into the earth, the sky turning golden as the woodlands sang its morning call.

It reminded you of the nights outside your home, peering down at you through the window pane. You looked up anyway, beginning to walk on the path again as Sans followed after you.

When you squinted for long enough, you could just barely make out the rubies and sapphires and topaz and other small gemstones embedded deep into the walls of the ceiling, and when the light went through them they created a kaleidoscope of colors that brought tears to your eyes.

"They're so pretty," you said, feeling homesick and missing the more familiar stars you'd lived under and taken for granted. "The night has its own perks when you gaze up and see entire galaxies, but living in a polluted area for an extended period of time blots them out until you can't see anything anymore. I've grown used to seeing nothing up there and pretending that I never wanted to in the first place."

You didn't notice that the way you spoke had affected Sans slightly as he jerked back, eyelights winking out before hazing back in with blurry vision.

"Ah," he spoke quietly, and your glance shifted back to him. "Me, too."

You waited a moment before turning to him and leaning closer as if sharing a very important secret.

"So, what are you gonna do about the machine?"

You sit down beside him as he settles in, placing his elbows on his kneecaps and letting all of the air out of his nonexistent lungs. "I don't know."

"Okay."

The thought seemed to have been a recurring one, considering he didn't even crack a pun this time. Instantly you feel the need to distract him or to say anything else, but he looked as if he wanted some quiet.

Then you look up and begin prodding him gently.

"Uh. Hey, guess who's behind you," you whisper to him, and he jerks around in startled surprise. Good timing, for once.

Papyrus stands there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Both skeletons begin sweating profusely as they acknowledge each other, and silently you raise a brow in Papyrus' direction. He winces. You angle your head to see if Undyne is following him, but there is no one else around and you visibly relax.

And then you stiffen again as Papyrus' gaze turns to you.

"Hello, Z. Undyne has stopped by, asking if I'd seen a human around here."

You stare.

He wrings his gloved hands nervously.

"B-but there's no human! Around here! Obviously! So I told her that I hadn't seen anyone, of course. Whew!"

You continue to stare. Sans begins sweating even more now.

"Y-yeah, Paps. I didn't see any humans around here. Right, Z?"

Papyrus stops talking. So does Sans.

A cricket vibrates.

Nobody speaks.

Outside of your scouting area, a black mess of goop bubbles inaudibly near the lakeside. Then it sinks.

"Yup!" You say, and they both release a breath of air that seemed incredibly suspicious but refuse to open their mouths any further. Then Sans is doubled over laughing.

While Papyrus begins to rail furiously on his crying brother for laughing at a 'possible human escape', another thought comes to you and you raise your head up. The gems in the ceiling twinkle back in unison and your heart softens a bit, your body leaning back to take it all in.

Both him and Papyrus blink back in unison when your exclamation hits. "Yo. Let me tell you some things about the star patterns that I remember. I may not have seen them in awhile, but the thing about the stars is that they don't change too much over the years. This ceiling reminded me of the night sky, and some of them actually look sort of close. I'll try to remember all the constellations I can think of..."

Upon recognizing that it was about due time for a topic change and finding that the new subject was much more interesting, Papyrus lit up and shuffled closer as he sat down on a nearby rock, sitting down before staring at you expectantly. Sans hid in his jacket slightly, shifting several weeds around with his foot and eyelights blinking up as he waited for you to begin.

The oceans were the first thing you described. None of them had likely ever seen the sea before, especially not when the sun rose or fell or when diving deep below the waters to find coral and fish and so many things native to their home.

"-and the skies change from orange and yellow to pink, then purple, then this really nice shade of blue that eventually darkens into black. Those are some of the nicest sunsets that you'll ever see," you gushed, and from the looks of it they seemed enthralled as well.

"Sunrises give the same feeling, though it's more yellow and pink and warmer colors than anything else. Pictures never do quite cut it, although we did try our damndest in paintings and photos. You gotta _be_ there to get the entire range of colors, they're something out of a fairytale."

You hadn't really taken your time while traversing the ruins, and in hindsight you wished you did. It was very hard trying to avoid the caretaker, monsters, and the presumed weed that popped out at inopportune moments and nearly noticed whenever you dived for cover. That sort of lilac reminded you of the purples you'd find in a sunset, all bright and warm and mixed with other hues.

There was a rustle in the brush next to Papyrus' knee, and then out came a Froggit bobbing cheerfully in a friendly hello, eyes winking with white lights in a nonthreatening and rather adorable way. A spectator.

"-and with forests and fields, where should I even begin? There's that scent of fresh air and a really good feeling if it rained just yesterday, and the dirt turns into this really rich dark brown that's cool to the touch. The grass is wet and it clings to you and gets really scratchy and annoying if you run too fast, but there are so many mushrooms that you can find and there are birds singing and all the plants and berries you can think of."

"I've heard them before," Sans muttered. "In the Judgement Hall. They're at the windows, too. The birds are so... tiny."

"Their wings are extremely fragile, and their bones are light so that they can fly freely and go wherever they want, even beyond the trees - well, you probably know all of this, anyway, considering all the anatomy books of animals that you can probably search for in the trash heap," you mention, rubbing the back of your head.

"We haven't found one of any animals yet, no," he replied, though he sounded absentminded.

The winding of the music box surprised you, and you craned your head to hear it more clearly. Papyrus jerked up from his seat, listening to the song playing as well.

"What's that song?" You ask them. Sans shrugs.

"No clue. Someone probably left a player lying around and the echo flowers picked it up."

The music drew you closer, and you start walking towards where the sound was coming from. Based on the expressions of the skeletons behind you, they both seemed interested in the source as well.

Eventually the three of you stop before the room where you'd left the umbrella, the echo flowers creating an ambiance that somehow accompanied the music in a positive aspect. You turn to them again, but they seem just as flabbergasted as you are. You step forward.

The statue was old and worn away heavily by the cracks in the ceiling letting the water come through in small drops, but with the umbrella something within it had clicked and had begun a humming note that you found unfamiliar, yet soothing. Perhaps if you'd stayed just a little longer, you would've heard it before you left.

The song made you pause for several minutes, and slowly you crouched down and listened to the song play over again.

(The promise of sharing a new song with the orphan kids made you smile.)

The strange glowing runes on the wall were hard to read in some parts, so you focused on the ones that were still mostly untouched. Some of them were words of encouragement, words that a monster could take on a human soul and use it for power. Most of them were words of despair. Humans were too strong, and only those that fell down could save them now.

Both Papyrus and Sans seemed to have read them already. Either that, or they just didn't care. You glance at them as Papyrus bounces from echo flower to echo flower and adds happy little messages, Sans treading along behind him, and laugh silently to yourself.

You wondered where these parts of monster culture had come from, the parts where they shared gifts and listened to other people's wishes and prayed for things other than the parts that were picked from the remaining human items and lore, scrambled together for their own purposes and held by faith and hope. You wondered if there were any remnants from the time when monsters had been free, untrapped by the barrier.

You wondered how monsterkind had grown to be so strong in isolation.

"Reminded me of something," you muttered to yourself. "I guess the melting guy really did me a favor this time. Thanks, Gaster."

* * *

thank you again for coming this far! I have a lot of undertale-related things to draw. If you'd like to come by and take a look at anything, feel free to look at the rest of my stuff. I'll keep writing eventually.

See you later!


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